


Sing, Canary

by heavenorspace, twobirdsonesong



Category: Glee, seblaine - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Arranged Marriage, Blaine Anderson Big Bang, Blaine Big Bang Challenge, Dubious Morality, Eventual Smut, M/M, Regency Romance, but it is a society with arranged marriages so...yeah, sort of, there shouldn't be any issues with consent in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:31:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6243169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenorspace/pseuds/heavenorspace, https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirdsonesong/pseuds/twobirdsonesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine knows that his life as a second son in their society has robbed him of the power to choose his future marriage partner. All he knows for sure is that it will be a man who has grown to be of age: eighteen or older. </p><p>Thus far, he has been able to keep the unwelcome suitors at bay when the Smythe’s infamous first son, Sebastian, proposes a claim for him. A claim far less easy to reject due to status, wealth, and a tiny kindling of something inside Blaine that he cannot deny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [Danaka](http://klaineitupanotch.tumblr.com/) for taking us on as our artist for this Big Bang and for creating an amazing fan mix on top of the artwork. You rock.
> 
> [Link to art](http://klaineitupanotch.tumblr.com/post/141170820355/babb-fic-art-post-sing-canary), by klaineitupanotch
> 
> [Link to FanMix](http://8tracks.com/elfinder/sing-canary-fanmix), by klaineitupanotch
> 
> Much gratitude to [Sarah](http://freefallinfromdreams.tumblr.com/) for her incredible beta work. We couldn't have done it without both of you!

 

_The Smythe Estate, Westerville, Ohio_

 

Sebastian hovered anxiously outside of his father’s office for several long moments, going over once more what exactly he was going to say to the man. He was still in his Dalton uniform, having come straight from school, and he double-checked that his cuffs were acceptable and his tie was smooth, the knot perfect. Presentation was key to the Smythes, the details important, and he needed to be absolutely presentable that night.

 

This was it. This was his chance to get what he wanted. Every day he waited was another day someone else might take what should be his. He was a Smythe after all – some things were practically his by right – and he’d be damned if what he wanted were suddenly snatched out from under him. All he needed was his father’s agreement.

 

Sebastian squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and knocked on the heavy, imposing door.

 

“Come in,” his father called out and Sebastian entered the office with no small amount of trepidation.

 

Mr. Smythe was seated behind his grand desk, bent over a pile of paperwork despite the late hour. His hair had greyed at the temples in recent years, but it was neatly combed, and he was still wearing his waistcoat and jacket, as though he were still at the office.

 

“Good evening, father,” said Sebastian, standing nearly at attention before the desk. Plush chairs sat on either side of him, but he would not sit until invited.

 

“Sebastian, what are you doing here?” His father barely spared him a glance. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

 

Sebastian had money enough to come and go from the campus nearly as he pleased, and his family name would do the rest should anyone question his movements. But his father still preferred him away at campus.

 

“Father,” Sebastian began. He was relieved the word didn’t catch in his throat as it sometimes did. “I wish to Declare an Intention.”

 

Mr. Smythe finally looked up from his stack of papers. His eyes were the same green as Sebastian’s behind his reading glasses, but narrowed as he appraised his son. “Do you now? I thought this might be coming, despite all of your...dalliances. And who is the young man? It is a man, I assume.”

 

Sebastian’s stomach clenched uncomfortably at the flippant remark, but he forced his composure. “Blaine Anderson,” he stated, and watched with relief when there wasn’t a hint of displeasure on his father’s face at the name.

 

“Anderson, you say?” Mr. Smythe took his glasses off. “The family is well-known, though… struggling as of late to maintain their financial standing, are they not?”

 

Sebastian bristled. Few families had the kind of wealth his own possessed, but that would not dissuade his decision. His choice was not based on wealth; not entirely. “They remain one of the oldest families in the States. Impeccable history, breeding. And their wealth is still grand enough.”

 

“They give too much to questionable charitable organizations.”

 

Sebastian did not respond, though he was fully aware.

 

“We have never been particularly close with the Andersons,” Mr. Smythe continued. “We had a dinner with them last year, I believe.”

 

“We did.” Bitterness tinged the words as Sebastian chafed at the memory.

 

He’d just come home from a year abroad in Paris and his parents had thrown a gala for his homecoming. An expensive soiree as though he’d come of age or gotten engaged, and not just returned home, but that was the way of his family. The Andersons had been there, and so had their youngest son, Blaine. Sebastian and Blaine’s first meeting had not gone particularly well, to say the least. But Sebastian was nothing if not persistent. What he wanted, he got, and what he wanted was Blaine.

 

“They have two sons,” Mr. Smythe continued and Sebastian noted that his father had not rejected his choice outright, when he could have. “The eldest is married and living in New York, I believe. And their second son attends Dalton with you, does he not?”

 

“He does.” Sebastian flashed to a memory of Blaine descending the main staircase not two weeks ago, slacks hugging the thick muscles of his thighs, unflattering blazer not quite hiding how trim his waist was. He’d been talking to another student, laughing.

 

“And what are his qualifications?” Mr. Smythe picked up a pen as though to write down whatever Sebastian was about to list off. Sebastian could imagine his father valuing each item and deciding if the sum was great enough.

 

“He’s a senior, sir. He’s in the top rankings of his classes and this year he’s a council member of the Warblers. He’s co-captain of the fencing team, as well as playing on the lacrosse team with me. And, of course, he’s from an exceptional family.”

 

 _And he can’t stand me_ , Sebastian silently added. His father didn’t need to know that little hiccup; it was none of his concern.

 

“Is he a virgin?” Mr. Smythe asked casually, not even blinking. Sebastian hated the blush that pinked his ears at the question. The virginity of the Intended was no longer a requirement of arranged marriage contracts, but it certainly wasn’t looked down on. For many, in fact, the _purity_ of the Intended was still a highly sought after quality. In general, Sebastian thought it was utter bullshit and completely outdated, but he couldn’t deny the fierce flash of pride at the thought that Blaine would be his and only his. Pride, and maybe ego, if he was being perfectly honest with himself, which he rarely was.

 

“I believe he is,” is all he allowed. He’d never known Blaine to date, or even meet with another boy in the library.

 

“How old is he?”

 

“Seventeen, sir. Young, for a senior - I’m not sure when his birthday is. Naturally, I’ll find that out once my Intention is made known to him and my Offer is presented. It will be in the Contract.”

 

“So,” Mr. Smythe said coolly, drawing out the word a beat too long, and Sebastian felt the first stirring of nerves at the calculating way his father was suddenly looking at him. “You haven’t discussed this with him prior to asking me for permission. He doesn’t know of your interest in him.”

 

“He knows I have an interest, but I – that is he, well it’s…” Sebastian flushed in anger and embarrassment. He had hoped, perhaps futily, that he could get his father’s permission without having to explain the nature of his current relationship with Blaine. Or non-relationship, as it were.

 

“Ah,” Mr. Smythe said, eyebrow lifting in amusement. “So, he’s rejected your advances before and now you’re putting him in his proper place.”

 

Sebastian’s jaw clenched and he struggled not to shift restlessly on his feet as the memory of their first encounter washed over him. He remembered it all exquisitely.

 

***

 

_The Smythe Estate was full of the wealthiest, highest-ranking families in the area, all in attendance for Sebastian’s completely unnecessary homecoming gala. Through the well-dressed, excruciatingly well-mannered throng, Sebastian first spotted the young man._

 

_He was with a couple who Sebastian recognized as Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, which likely made him their youngest son, Blaine. The old families of the upper levels of society were all known to each other, even if they didn’t know each other personally. Gossip ran rampant, as did jealousy and curiosity, and everyone kept eyes on each other’s business._

 

_The Andersons were standing in a small circle of acquaintances. (It was almost always impossible to know if any of them were actually friends, or if they merely tolerated each other for the sake of societal expectations.) Blaine was small, smaller than most, but well-built under his neat, expensive suit. He had smooth, honeyed skin and huge, whiskey-gold eyes. It was his eyes that caught Sebastian’s attention so completely, even from across the room. He was drawn to the young man immediately. How could he not be? The boy was gorgeous, with his classic profile and broad shoulders._

 

_But as Sebastian watched him from afar, the attraction grew deeper. Blaine’s face was animated, attentive as he listed to whatever surely droll story was being told. There was something different about him, something more. Something bright and enticing, entrancing. The boys of Paris had grown tiresome over the last year - all the same with their pale, pinched faces and their utterly blasé lives. This boy was something else entirely, Sebastian could tell._

 

_And Sebastian wanted him; instantly, fiercely, deep down in his gut where he knew it wouldn’t go away until sated._

 

_The boy’s warm eyes widened when Sebastian approached the group and his mouth dropped open a little. Sebastian preened; ego aside, he was used to that manner of reaction. But it felt good to see it from this new objection of his attraction. He knew it didn’t hurt that he was wearing a new, custom-made suit from Milan that accentuated the length and leanness of his body._

 

_“Good evening, everyone,” Sebastian said to the small group, putting forth as much charm as he’d long been taught. “Thank you for coming to my little party. It was very kind of you.”_

 

_“Thank you for the invitation,” Mr. Anderson said mildly, as was expected of him. The centuries-old niceties often irked Sebastian, but they served a purpose, and Sebastian was in no position to ignore them, or to try and alter the status quo._

 

_Sebastian turned fully to Blaine and stuck his hand out in greeting. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Sebastian Smythe,” he introduced, though surely he needed no introduction at his own party. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”_

 

_Blaine took his hand with just a hint of bashful hesitation, and Sebastian made sure to let his fingers trail softly across the delicate skin of Blaine’s wrist. It was a bold move, he knew; to be so brazen in front of the boy’s parents, at their very first meeting so less, but he couldn’t help himself. He swore he felt Blaine’s pulse jump beneath his touch and Sebastian was filled with the impulse to lean in and kiss Blaine, to see if his red lips tasted as sweet as they looked._

 

_The Andersons turned politely turned their backs on the pair and moved their conversation several feet away. Sebastian was sure he saw Mrs. Anderson flash her husband a sly little smile before offering was little privacy they could in the midst of the party. Sebastian took it as a small victory; it was common for parents to give their eligible children a little leeway with potential suitors, to loosen the stranglehold of propriety just a little. Not too much though. But that little gesture meant that the Andersons accepted him as someone who might court their son. It was what he needed to continue._

 

_“Blaine Anderson,” the boy finally said, and Sebastian delighted in the low timbre of his voice. He hated it so when a pretty face came with an obnoxious voice. Not that he needed his partners to talk much. “The pleasure of your acquaintance is mine.”_

 

_Sebastian was pleased to note that Blaine too knew all his standard social niceties, and he wondered suddenly if Blaine was another one of those boys who were all sweet and reserved on the outside, but wild and carefree once he got them into bed. Or a bathroom stall. Whatever was handy._

 

_“Yes,” Sebastian replied, and he let his voice drop down deeper. “It could be.”_

 

_Blaine’s cheeks heated up at his words, flushing a pretty pink underneath his warm skin, but his eyes lost some of their earlier light and openness._

 

_“Oh,” Blaine said. The word carried on a strange, almost disappointed tone, and he tugged his hand from Sebastian’s grip._

 

_“You go to Dalton, isn’t that right?” Sebastian carefully steered the conversation to a less scandalous subject. Some boys needed a little coaxing first, and Blaine now seemed to be exactly that kind of boy. “It’s my understanding that all of the Anderson men graced the hallowed halls of Dalton.”_

 

_“Yes,” Blaine agreed flatly. “I’m a junior. Will you be returning to the school this semester?”_

 

_Sebastian frowned at how cool and impersonal Blaine’s voice had gone. “Oh, of course. It is the best in the country.” Sebastian leaned in to Blaine and let his eyes trail obviously up and down Blaine’s form. “And the view is breathtaking.”_

_  
Blaine swallowed heavily enough that Sebastian could hear it._

 

_“Would you care to join me somewhere a little more private?” Sebastian asked. “I’d love to get to know you a little better.” Sebastian pressed in closer, crowding into Blaine’s space. He reached out and let his fingers brush the silky fabric of Blaine tie. A soft sound escaped from Blaine’s parted lips and Sebastian could have sworn Blaine inhaled the scent of his cologne. “I happen to know the perfect place we could go.”_

_  
Blaine’s eyes narrowed then, and his jaw set into a firm line. “And where might that be?”_

 

_Sebastian smile, a wicked, curving grin that always worked so well. “This is my house, isn’t it? My bedroom’s just upstairs.” He went to curl his fingers around the tie, to draw Blaine in for a kiss, but Blaine took a step back. And then another. His whiskey eyes had gone flinty and cold; his mouth a thin, firm line._

 

_“I’ll see you at Dalton,” Blaine said, the words sharp. “Enjoy the rest of your party.” And then he turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Sebastian with rejection bitter and cold in his gut._

***

Sebastian shook the unhappy memory of that night off. Relations between he and Blaine hadn’t necessarily thawed during the semester at Dalton. Outside of Warbler and fencing practice, Blaine ignored him almost completely, and took great pains to converse and interact with him as little, and coolly, as possible when ignoring him was simply not an option.

 

But Sebastian’s desire had not waned nor wavered in the slightest in the face of Blaine’s ire. In fact, it had only grown deeper and more compelling.

 

“They’re a good family,” Mr. Smythe said finally, and he tapped his fingers on the desk. “They’re old blood and still wealthy, though not as they once were. But their ranking remains excellent.”

 

Mr. Smythe suddenly rose from his desk and took a few steps over to the bar at the back of his office where he poured himself a gin and tonic. He did not offer Sebastian a drink.

 

“You’ve just turned eighteen,” he said, sipping from the heavy cut glass. His eyes were dark and Sebastian knew his father was weighing his choice, sifting through the values of Blaine, deciding on the apparent measure of him.

 

“I know.”

 

Mr. Smythe took a slow sip of his gin. “You are our only child. It is your right to marry another first born child.”

 

Sebastian stiffened imperceptibly. He’d long kept his thoughts and feelings on the societal hierarchy to himself, knowing how fast his father - and everyone else they associated with - clung to the old ways.

 

“It is,” Sebastian agreed, knowing there was no point in arguing, not when his father was so immovable on the matter. “But I believe Blaine’s other qualities overcome his second son status.”

 

“You are not going to be wanting for potential matches. You needn’t rush. You could have anyone. That Clarington boy, for example.”

 

Sebastian almost sneered at the mention of Hunter. They’d had their fun once, but Sebastian would be damned before he ever considered marrying into that family, or letting Hunter marry into his.

 

“I’ve made my decision,” Sebastian said instead. “And I’ve chosen Blaine Anderson.”

 

Mr. Smythe knocked back the last of his drink. “Very well. I suppose it’s a fine choice indeed. I’ll call the lawyers in the morning and have them begin to draw up the paperwork. Then we’ll contact the Andersons and have the boy accept your proposal within the week.” Mr. Smythe set his empty glass down and retook his seat behind his imposing desk. “No point in delaying matters,” he added, as he put his glasses back on and returned his attention to his work.

 

His father didn’t need to say _that will be all_ for Sebastian to hear it.

 

“Goodnight, father.” Sebastian left the office and quietly closed the door behind him. He strode down the long hallway towards the foyer, loosening the perfect, constricting knot of his tie as he went.

 

Thoughts of Blaine filled Sebastian as he reached his car, parked in the drive in front of house. His bright eyes, the breadth of his shoulders, the strength in his hands. The way the smile disappeared from his rounded cheeks when Sebastian had suggested a salacious interlude all those months ago. Sebastian was unused to boys still clinging to notions of purity or chastity, or worse, that love and sex wore somehow invariably linked.

 

It would be difficult, Sebastian knew, to get Blaine to agree to marry him, especially when at present he wouldn’t so much even speak to him unless the matter was dire. But Sebastian had the rules and trappings of society on his side. Once he officially Declared his Intention, Blaine would have no real choice beyond becoming his.

***

**_Dalton: Room 442_ **

 

Blaine sat his little desk in his dorm room, bent over his French homework and fairly certain he’d used the correct conjugation of _résister_. French was not his strongest class, but his mother had insisted and he hadn’t the heart to tell her no. A gentle tapping on the open door of his room startled him. He often left his door open while he was studying. The hallways of Dalton Academy were generally quiet, and he wanted the other students to know what they could come talk to him whenever they needed to. He wasn’t a Class Prefect, but only because his position on the Warbler council had rendered him ineligible for it. Even so, he wanted his fellow students to know he was always available should they need to talk to him.

  
Blaine looked up to find his parents standing in the doorway, smiling warmly at him.

 

“Mom, dad,” he exclaimed, surprised to see them. He stood up from his chair and walked over to wrap them each up in a hug in turn. “What are you doing here?” He led his parents into the room, offering his mother a seat and closing the door behind them. Privacy, of course, was still a necessity.

 

“We have something we need to talk to you about,” Mrs. Anderson said. She was in a nice dress and a long coat, and his father was wearing a crisp suit. Formal, certainly, but nothing particularly out of the place. His parents always like to make a good and proper impression wherever they went.

 

“You came all the way out here instead of calling?” Blaine asked.

 

Mr. Anderson leaned back against Blaine’s desk, folding his arms across his chest, while his wife sat quite stiffly in the wingback chair every Dalton dorm had.

 

“Blaine,” Mr. Anderson began. His voice was serious and Blaine felt a strange dread creep through his veins. His father was normally a kind and jovial man. Blaine thought perhaps someone in the family had died, or was hurt; anything else he could think of his parents could have told him over the phone.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Sebastian Smythe has officially Declared an Intention.”

 

“Oh.” Blaine couldn’t imagine why his parents had come all the way to Dalton to tell him that. It was an important event, granted, but he was sure to hear about it tomorrow at breakfast in the dining hall, if one of the Warblers didn’t text him with the new gossip first. “Okay, but-”

 

“For you.”

 

At once, all of the air punched out of Blaine and he sat down heavily on his bed. He felt the blood drain from his face. “Oh,” he heard himself mumble, though he didn’t think to say the word. His head swam; he wasn’t sure he could stand if he tried.

 

It didn’t make any sense. He knew that Sebastian harbored an...attraction to him, but Declaring for him, asking Blaine to marry him, was so far beyond trying to seduce him at a party that Blaine could not fathom it. They hadn’t really spoken since Sebastian homecoming party. Blaine had done his best to avoid the other boy and his continued advances. But it was impossible to ignore the heated looks Sebastian leveled at him from across the dining hall and at Warbler practice.   And it was impossible to miss Sebastian’s slick innuendo directed at him between classes, or the way he’d find some way to touch Blaine during Warbler practice. A heavy hand at the small of his back when getting into position. Fingers brushing against his when passing out sheet music. Blaine avoided sitting on the couch anymore, lest Sebastian sit beside him, where he knew Sebastian would find a way to touch his thigh. And Blaine did what he could to change on the other side of the locker rooms after fencing class.

 

But a Declaration. That was so much more. And so much more dangerous, so final.

 

“Oh,” Blaine repeated to himself and pressed his hand to his chest. He could feel the racing, panicked beating of his heart beneath his bones. He couldn’t help but think about Sebastian, who was likely in his own room over in the East wing of the dorms. He wondered if Sebastian knew his parents would be telling him of the Declaration tonight. He wondered how fucking pleased Sebastian was with himself right now.

 

“It’s quite the honor, dear,” Blaine’s mother said. Her voice was meant to be soothing, calming, but the words scraped along Blaine’s nerves. “The Smythes are perhaps the highest ranked family in the area. You should be rather, well, pleased that their son would take an interest in you.” Mrs. Anderson folded her delicate hands in her laps. Her eyes were soft as she gazed at her son, gently earnest. Blaine remembered a similar look from when he was a little boy and she had told him that he’d be beginning piano and violin lessons because that’s what all proper young men of a certain social standing did.

 

Blaine swallowed against his dry throat. Proper young boys did their homework and learned their manners and practiced their instruments. They minded their parents, observed their elders, and obeyed all the rules. And this too was something all proper young men of his standing and birth rank did.

 

But Blaine couldn’t. Not this. Not Sebastian. He didn’t care if the Smythes owned every law firm in the country. He didn’t care if their son walked on water or bled gold. He didn’t care if Sebastian got down on his knees and begged in public for his hand, swore to change his ways. He would never, ever be _pleased_ to be forced to marry Sebastian fucking Smythe. Never. He’d walk out of Dalton and never look back before he let Sebastian take him.

 

“Mom, no. I can’t,” Blaine protested. He felt close to tears and it angered him further. “Please don’t make me do this.”

 

His parents could stop this, he knew. He was still under eighteen, though not for long; his parents could still reject Sebastian’s offer on his behalf without any repercussions at all. They could put an end to this before anyone else had to know about it, before anyone else knew that he was about to belong to someone like Sebastian. But he knew, somehow he knew that they would not.

 

“Blaine,” his father’s voice was almost steady. “You’ve known this was coming, you’ve know that someone would likely Declare for you soon if you didn’t do it first. Sebastian is older than you, and you are past sixteen. It was his right to make a claim for you. You really should be honored that he did it so soon after his coming of age. Clearly he was eager and didn’t want anyone else making a Declaration for you first. This family is old, Blaine, and you are the only eligible child available for the next several years.” His father paused. “Well, you were.”

 

Blaine’s stomach turned. He’d never felt more like cattle, had never felt the weight of his station in life so heavily around his neck as he did then. Not even when he’d turned sixteen and his name had officially entered the Registry.

 

“But I...I don’t want him,” Blaine protested, as though it mattered. “I - we don’t...he’s…” Blaine struggled to explain his distaste without completely slandering Sebastian to his parents, which he knew they wouldn’t stand for, even in the privacy of his dorm room.

 

 _I can’t stand him,_ Blaine thought. _He’s arrogant and rude and takes far too many liberties._

 

“Has he acted at all inappropriately towards you?” Mrs. Anderson asked very seriously, leaning forward in the chair. “Has hs done anything that would invalidate his proposal?”

 

Blaine bit his lip hard. There was nothing about the way Sebastian looked at him that _wasn’t_ inappropriate. The words he murmured, low and seductive in Blaine’s ear, or the way his fingers always seemed to find bare skin. But the truth was that Sebastian had never done anything that crossed the line of impropriety so greatly that he would be considered ineligible.

 

“But, but what about love?” Blaine asked. “And choice?”

 

“Blaine, sweetheart. Just consider it,” his mother countered. “Do not reject his proposal outright because of some...schoolboy animosity. If you cannot say yes right away, then at least give Mr. Smythe the three months. It’s only right and proper.”

 

 _Don’t make the family look bad_ , Blaine clearly heard in the silence after his mother’s words.

 

“But...it's ridiculous.”

 

"It's not ridiculous. It's--” Mr. Anderson seemed to be struggling for the right thing – for anything – to say. “It's _tradition_ , Blaine. It's how things work. It’s the way things are.”

 

“This isn't how you should marry someone.” Blaine knew he was grasping at his last desperate hope.

 

"Look at your mother and I. We were betrothed by our parents, neither of us knew the other beyond reputation. There wasn’t even a Declaration. If you’re so concerned with choice, which clearly you are, remember how we had less of one. But it worked out, didn't it?"

 

"Yeah, because you're both kind, genuine, caring people.” Blaine wouldn’t have called Sebastian cruel, but there was something unnervingly devious – conniving, even – in the straight line of his brows. “It doesn't always work out.” It couldn’t possibly work out for him and Sebastian. There was no way. He knew that already.

 

"No, it doesn't." Divorce wasn’t common amongst Contracted spouses, but it happened. And inevitably it cast shame on the families for generations.

 

 _And it doesn't matter_ , Blaine heard his father say in the thick, choking silence that followed.

 

“This is the way things are,” Mr. Anderson repeated, and Blaine heard the finality in his words perfectly clear.

 

_The way things are._

 

Blaine felt his life slipping between his fingers and into Sebastian’s hands.


	2. The Contract

_The Anderson Residence, Westerville, Ohio_

 

Blaine fidgeted with his tie once more, tugging at the perfectly square knot with shaking, nervous fingers. The Smythes were downstairs in the sitting room, waiting for him, and he knew he was stalling. If he waited too much longer surely they would send someone to fetch him. He looked at himself once more in the long mirror, taking in his dark suit. It sat heavy and uncomfortable on his small frame, even though it was tailored to him perfectly. It would not due to wear anything less than the best, especially tonight.

 

The Smythes had arrived to offer Sebastian’s formal Declaration of Intention – his initial proposal for marriage. Downstairs, right then, tucked away in a simple black leather folder with his and Sebastian’s names inscribed on the front, was the paperwork that would end Blaine’s days as a single man. Sebastian’s Contract would lay out the official terms of his proposal – their future living arrangements, the value of each of their estates, provisions for the division of property in the event of divorce, what the grounds of a divorce entailed (many Contracted marriages carried strict language against adultery), and any stipulations of Sebastian’s regarding their marriage.

 

Blaine’s heart thudded heavily and he swallowed down a sudden surge of bile. Was Sebastian going to make him change his name? Where did Sebastian want them to live? Blaine knew he could object to anything in the Contract and propose his own changes and requirements. And he knew he should have spent the week since his parents told him about the Declaration coming up with the things he himself wanted to include in the Contract. Instead, he’d forced himself not to think about it at all. He’d continued his avoidance of Sebastian as best he could all week – not looking at him during Warbler rehearsals, not speaking to him during lacrosse practice, and completely avoiding the locker room to shower in his own room. He’d even taken to sitting at the other end of the table in the dining hall where the Warblers usually sat just to stay as far away from Sebastian as possible. Blaine could hardly _look_ at Sebastian for the anger that rose up in him at the sight of him - his long body, the smirk on his face, the possession in his eyes, the rich amber and tobacco scent of his cologne.

 

But it was too late now to come up with anything further.

 

“You can do this,” Blaine said aloud. He checked his hair one last time – styled into submission – and made sure there wasn’t any lint on his jacket. He at least wanted to look presentable. It was likely this was the only Declaration he would receive and it was a ceremony he would show at least _some_ respect for. “You can do this.” He squared his shoulders and left his bedroom.

 

The Smythes and Blaine’s parents were waiting for him when he entered the sitting room. Sebastian was standing in front of the unlit fireplace, one hand on the mantelpiece, the other holding what appeared to be a glass of Scotch. Blaine would have scoffed at the presumption, but he was caught unexpectedly by the shadowed length of Sebastian’s body. He too was wearing a dark suit, and the way it nipped in at the waist accentuated the leanness of his build. Blaine felt a blush tinge his cheeks; given the freedom of boys in a locker room, he was more familiar with the planes of Sebastian’s body than he cared to admit to.

 

Sebastian seemed to be looking at the pictures on the mantle and Blaine flushed even further in embarrassment, knowing that there were photos of him as a baby and young boy up there. He was thankful he wasn’t naked in any of them. Small mercies for this evening, he supposed.

 

“Sorry to keep you all waiting,” Blaine said by way of announcing himself. Sebastian turned away from the fireplace and Blaine could feel those dark green eyes raking over him, taking in him and his outfit. Blaine could tell that Sebastian approved, if the obvious heat in his eyes was anything to go by.

 

“Not at all,” Sebastian drawled. “You’re well worth the wait.” Sebastian crossed the room, footsteps muffled by plush oriental rug, and swooped in to press a quick kiss to Blaine’s cheek, too fast for Blaine to duck away. Blaine tried not to inhale the increasingly familiar scent of Sebastian, his shampoo and skin and cologne. His cheek tingled where Sebastian’s lips had brushed.

 

Blaine swallowed and glanced around the room. His parents seemed faintly amused by Sebastian’s display, and Mrs. Smythe actually looked thrilled. She probably thought it charmingly romantic. Mr. Smythe was the only one who appeared to not care at all. Blaine had never much cared for Sebastian’s father. He’d seen him before at various galas and balls, events that the wealthy families were expected to attend, even if no one really wanted to. Mr. Smythe always had a glowering, pinched look to him, as though he felt it all beneath him. Blaine assumed Mr. Smythe thought him unworthy as well.

 

“Shall we, er,” Blaine cleared his throat. “Get started?”

 

Sebastian watched as Blaine took a seat in one of the high-backed chairs, and not on the sofa as he’d hoped. That was okay – there would be plenty of time to get close to Blaine after this night was over. In fact it would nearly be required. Sebastian could see the tight set of Blaine’s shoulders and the muscles clenching and unclenching in his jaw. He thought about moving to stand next to Blaine’s chair, but wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t push his luck too far, not after that stolen little kiss. Even chaste as it was.

 

There was no lawyer present – there didn’t need to be until the Contract was agreed upon and ready to be signed – and Blaine listened as Mr. Smythe sketched out the very standard terms of Sebastian’s proposal. But he didn’t really hear any of the words. His blood was rushing in his ears and his chest felt tight.

 

At first nothing about this had actually seemed truly real to Blaine. It had felt like a fever dream, or something that was happening to someone else and he was merely observing the proceedings as a third party. But when Sebastian’s father started talking about the customary six-month engagement period, and family estates where they could move into together, and what to do if they ever decided to adopt children, Blaine’s stomach twisted up tight and he couldn’t lift his eyes from the floor. He couldn’t look at Sebastian at all, who he was sure was puffed up with triumph. It hit him then as it hadn’t before that this was his life they were discussing, his future that was being laid out as paperwork. The enormity of it all made it hard to breathe.

 

Sebastian watched as Blaine stared at his feet the whole time his father spoke, his body nearly trembling with what Sebastian assumed was anger. It was hard to tell if Blaine was putting on a bit of show or not. Sure, Blaine had been resistant to his advances from the start, but there had also been moments in the months since where Sebastian thought that maybe Blaine was warming up to him. There had been moments throughout the year when he was sure Blaine’s eyes were on him from across a room, when Blaine didn’t immediately pull away from him when he stepped in close, when Blaine laughed at his admittedly outrageous comments before he could catch himself. Now he was acting as though they were ending his life, rather than simply binding it to Sebastian’s.

 

“I’d like to read the Contract myself,” Blaine suddenly announced and Sebastian looked over at his father in concern. “If that’s all right, sir.”

 

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Smythe handed the leather-bound Contract to Sebastian to give to Blaine. “It’s good to be thorough.” There was a note of approval in his voice that made Blaine’s skin crawl. He simply could not imagine this tall, stern man with the narrow face and graying hair as his father-in-law.

 

Blaine read through the Contract, pushing through the ridiculously outdated and old-fashioned language, searching for anything tiny that could give him cause to reject it outright, without any consequences to either family. But Blaine reached the last page, where there were two lines for signatures, and found nothing to protest. As loath as he was to admit it, it was an excellent Contract, as far as those things went. Sebastian’s terms – his stipulations and obligations for their marriage – were beyond fair, even giving towards Blaine. He required almost nothing. The only thing that stood out was the requirement of Blaine’s absolute fidelity. And that didn’t even bother Blaine. Despite his lack of experience with relationships, Blaine knew he would never be unfaithful to his partner, most especially his _spouse_ , even if the relationship was one he was being forced into by the longstanding conventions of society. Though he would be sure to add language that would require the same of Sebastian. If Blaine’s reputation was one of inexperience, Sebastian’s was quite the opposite.

 

"I want Sebastian to get an STD test," Blaine suddenly blurted out. The thought to embarrass Sebastian in front of his parents had hardly crossed his mind before the words were spilling from his lips. But across the room, Sebastian merely smirked at him.

 

"No need for that, sweetheart,” Sebastian replied smoothly. “I'm always safe.” His parents looked completely nonplussed at Sebastian’s admissions to sexual conduct. But he was a first born child; his actions weren’t monitored the way Blaine’s were.

 

"I don't care. I'm not going to risk you…giving me anything. And if you have something, anything at all, the Contract is completely voided. Those are _my_ terms." Blaine folded his arms across his chest, satisfied that he’d had least said something forthright.

 

"Fine." Sebastian crossed one long leg over the other. "So you _are_ planning on sleeping with me then."

 

"No, I - that's not what I mean. I just, it's just--" Blaine closed his mouth and felt sweat gather in the small of his back.

 

Sebastian’s smirked. "But if I’m getting tested, _you_ have to as well."

 

"What? Why?" Blaine spluttered and flushed an even deep shade of red. "Everyone knows that I...that I'm--"

 

"Untouched?” Sebastian lifted an eyebrow and let the word slide slowly out of his mouth.   “Yeah, so you say. Why should I believe you? Body like yours?" Sebastian shook his head. "Unlikely."

 

“Fine,” Blaine snapped, duly embarrassed and hating Sebastian that little bit more.

 

“Now, if that’s everything,” Mr. Smythe began. “I call up the lawyer and we’ll have this signed and--”

 

“I want the Interim,” Blaine interrupted, and the room went deathly silent. Mr. Smythe’s face hardened and even Sebastian’s smirk faltered.

 

“Blaine, dear,” his mother sounded faintly embarrassed, as though she hadn’t been the one to suggest this back at Dalton. Blaine knew his mother was merely keeping up appearances though. It would not due for the Smythes to know that Blaine’s own parents were not fully and completely supportive of this match.

 

“No, this is my right as the Intended. I want time to...to think about this. This is the rest of my life we’re talking about here. You can’t expect me to decide this in an hour.” Blaine clasped his trembling hands together, trying to portray strength and confidence.

 

The Interim gave him three months. Three months of being Sebastian’s Intended without signing anything. Three months to decide whether or not he was going to accept or reject Sebastian’s proposal, or to figure another way out of it altogether. It was a nearly fruitless gesture of defiance though.

 

If he rejected Sebastian’s proposal outright, without any due cause, it would leave a black mark on his family’s name. It would make it harder for him to get married in the future – it would make him nearly undesirable by any other family. He didn’t have anyone else making a counter offer he could accept over Sebastian’s. And it wasn’t like he was suddenly going to get pregnant out of wedlock. It would indeed be better for all if he accepted the proposal immediately. But he could not; not and maintain his pride and the shreds of his dignity. He was not going to be bought by the Smythes for their son.

 

“This is a very good proposal, young Master Anderson,” Mr. Smythe said. He stood slowly from the chair; his height was imposing and he clearly knew how to use to his advantage.

 

“Yes, sir, it is. And I’m very grateful for that. But--” Blaine’s eyes flickered to Sebastian. The other boy’s face was a blank mask and only his eyes betrayed the frustration roiling under his skin. “But I need the time to think this over. Didn’t you say it was good to be thorough?”

 

Mr. Smythe’s jaw clenched but he said nothing in response.

 

“Well now, why don’t you and Sebastian go upstairs and have a little talk about all this? Just the two of you.” Mrs. Anderson suggested and Blaine swallowed down his immediate urge to protest. He knew there was no use.

 

“Yes,” Sebastian agreed. His voice was tightly controlled and Blaine knew he was angry. “Why don’t we have a chat about this?”

 

Blaine rose from his chair and tried to think of where they could possibly talk, or what they would even talk about.

 

“You can take Sebastian up to your room, dear,” Mrs. Anderson said. Blaine paled and shook his head at the toothy grin Sebastian shot him.

 

“Come on,” Blaine said. He led Sebastian out of the sitting room and up the main staircase. The whole way he could feel Sebastian’s gaze heavy and hot against the back of his neck.

 

Blaine paused in the long hallway that ran most of the length of the second floor. His parents’ home was not as grand as the Smythe’s estate, but it was still too large by half and Blaine knew they were well out of earshot of their parents. But there was no way he was taking Sebastian to his own bedroom. Perhaps his father’s study would suffice for whatever horribly awkward conversation the were about to have. And besides, there wasn’t a bed in his father’s study.

 

Blaine turned around to suggest the study and startled in surprise when Sebastian was much closer than he’d expected. So close he could see the barest hints of stubble on Sebastian’s chin and flecks of brighter color in his angry eyes.

 

“I don’t know what you’re playing at,” Blaine said. He took a step back as Sebastian took one towards him.

 

“I’m not _playing_ at anything,” Sebastian’s voice was soft and deadly serious. Blaine hated how the sound of it rolled down spine, not unpleasant at all, even though he wished it wasn’t. “I’m done playing.” He took another step towards Blaine, crowding into him, and Blaine shifted away again. Blaine’s skin was honey-rich and the lines of his face were cast into chiaroscuro by the dim light of the hallway. He was exquisite, and Sebastian wanted to cup the back of his neck in his hand and tug his mouth up to his.

 

“You know I’m not interested in you.” Blaine wanted to turn and walk away, but couldn’t quite get his feet to comply.

 

“Do I?” Blaine gasped as Sebastian backed him into the cool wall and placed his hands on either side Blaine’s shoulders, bracketing his body with his arms, but not touching him. “You should just stop fighting this now.”

 

Blaine tilted his head back against the wall to look up at Sebastian. His eyes, his mouth, his body were so close. Too close; Blaine could feel the heat radiating off him. Blaine flashed to a memory of another darkened alcove and the taste of a boy’s breath, the feeling of impatient hands at his waist, tugging and unbuttoning.

 

“No,” Blaine said, hardly above a whisper. His breath was coming too fast, his stomach felt tight and his chest her. He thought about the Contract downstairs and the values assigned to each of them. “I’m not for sale.”

 

“You will be mine,” Sebastian said. _And no one else’s_ , he thought fiercely.

 

“I will _not_.”

 

Sebastian’s eyes went impossibly dark at that and Blaine’s knees felt weak at the look in them. He wasn’t afraid – Sebastian wouldn’t hurt him – but he was still nervous. Intimidated. He hated how much taller Sebastian was, how he loomed over him, completely surrounded him. How the scent of him was everywhere; how it wasn’t awful when he was sure it should be. He couldn’t deny, even to himself, that he’d imagined similar situations – a dark room, a warm body, a caressing voice – alone at night under his sheets.

 

“Well, I don’t think you have much of a say in the matter right now, darling.”

 

Blaine shuddered hard. “Don’t call me that.”

 

Sebastian smirked. “Oh,” he drawled, suddenly understanding something about Blaine. “Oh, I see.”

 

Blaine flushed to his ears as Sebastian cocked his head appraisingly. His throat was dry and tight. His palms were sweating where they were pressed to the wall behind him. Sebastian’s eyes were suddenly narrowed, calculating as he took in every detail of Blaine’s face.

 

“You want to be _romanced_.” He made the word sound like a mockery and Blaine shivered again. Sebastian leaned down even closer and his breath was hot on Blaine’s cheek. Blaine could smell the rich wood of the Scotch he’d been drinking earlier.

 

“Stop.” Blaine hated how soft his voice came out. He couldn’t slow the rabbit-quick beating of his heart or ease the tightness in his belly.

 

“You want flowers and dates and serenades.” Sebastian trailed his fingers lightly down the side of Blaine’s neck and smiled in satisfaction when Blaine shuddered involuntarily under his touch. Sebastian smiled; he’d always known Blaine would be sensitive. “You want to be _seduced_.”

 

Blaine closed his eyes. He thought of all the things he hadn’t yet had, but wanted, fiercely. Sweetly scented flowers. Slow kisses. Touches that moved past merely friendly. Romantic dinners and surprise gifts that came from the heart. He wanted someone who cared for him, about him, beyond his last name and the money behind it.

 

“I can seduce you.” Sebastian dipped his thumb into the soft, warm hollow of Blaine’s throat and felt his harshly pounding heart.

 

“Why are you doing this?”

 

“I want you to be mine.”

 

“Why?” Blaine stressed. He still didn’t understand. There were other boys out there, girls too, if Sebastian fancied. Richer families than his; older name. There were dozens of families who would throw their eligible children at Sebastian’s feet.

 

“Because you’re worth having,” Sebastian said and somehow it sounded like a confession. Blaine didn’t understand that either. I have three months. That’s more than enough time.” Sebastian brushed his lips against Blaine’s cheekbone; over the same spot he’d pressed a kiss to earlier. “You will be mine. And you’ll _want_ to be mine.”

 

Blaine wanted to protest, to say no, _never_ , but he hadn’t the breath left for words. And then Sebastian was gone, moving swiftly down the hallways to the staircase, leaving Blaine cold and panting against the wall. Blaine’s heart pounded in his throat, his skin burned where Sebastian had touched him, and his hands trembled. It took him a long moment before he was steady enough to rejoin their parents in the sitting room. He didn’t look at either Sebastian or the black folder that contained the still unsigned Contract for the rest of the evening.


	3. The First Morning, In Brief

_Dalton: Room 442_

 

The next morning was hell.

 

Blaine had hardly been able to sleep for the tension thrumming under his skin. He’d left his parents’ home late the night before, a full hour past curfew. He’d stayed long after the Smythes left, talking to his parents and maybe pouting about the whole thing. But it didn’t matter, not when his tardiness was due to an official marriage proposal. The copy of the Contract in his messenger bag, heavier than it should have been, was more than enough to excuse him of any lateness with the Dean. Blaine had shed his suit and left it in a pile on his dorm room floor, unwilling to touch it, not when it seemed the traces of Sebastian’s cologne were still lingering in the folds of the fabric. He’d crawled into bed and closed his eyes, desperate for sleep and the chance to forget, at least for a while, but it hadn’t done any good. All he could see were the white pages and black ink of the contract, the blank space where he was supposed to sign his name and give away his life.

 

And he hadn’t been able to erase the memory of Sebastian’s eyes – green and flecked through with blue and gold. So incredibly intense on his, determined. Confident. Assured of the prize he’d be winning. Blaine had groaned and ground the heels of his hands against his eyes, tried to shove the image way. He’d spent most of the long, dark night shifting restlessly against his too warm sheets, unable to get Sebastian’s eyes out of his mind. Or the brief touch of those long fingers against his neck. Nobody had ever really touched him before, not like that. He hated how his skin still felt heated at the lingering memory.

 

Blaine was already awake when his alarm went off in the morning. He pulled himself from bed with a weary sigh, his back cracking with every movement, and shuffled into the bathroom. His eyes felt gritty and he turned the temperature of the water up as high as he could stand and stood under the spray for longer than usual.

 

When Blaine stepped out of the bathroom and back into his room, he noticed a flat package had been slipped under his door. Blaine frowned. The package wrapped in thick, expensive red paper with a dark blue silk ribbon crossed around it. There was a handwritten note tucked under the ribbon.

_Darling,_

_90 days._

_\- S_

Blaine crumpled the note and threw it aside. Sebastian’s script was elegant, refined, and spoke of years of training. It was just another reminder of their families’ standing in society and the expectations that came with it. Uncaring of the obvious expense of the wrapping paper, Blaine ripped it away and let the tattered shreds fall to the floor. Inside was a wall calendar. He stared at it in confusion for a long moment. Why the hell would Sebastian send him a calendar? He knew gifts were expected throughout the length of the Interim, a mockery made of a courtship, but this? Blaine flipped quickly through the months, paying little mind to what looked like notes squiggled on certain days, until he got to what he somehow knew he’d find.

 

Sure enough, Sebastian had circled in red the date three months from then -- the day Blaine had to make a decision.

 

And inside the box, in Sebastian’s script, was written one word: “ _Mine_.”

 

Blaine flushed with anger. He wanted to throw the calendar away, to burn it, even. He wanted to go back a day, when he was just another kid at Dalton, going to class and doing his homework; back further to before he found himself locked in an Intention of Marriage Contract. He wanted to go back a week to before he was Sebastian Fucking Smythe’s Intended. Before everything changed. He’d always thought about getting married, about finding a _someone_ for the rest of his life. But he’d always convinced himself that he’d have some say in the matter. Blaine always knew his family name and standing in society would factor in somehow; there’d be no getting around that. But still, late at night when his thoughts turned childishly romantic, Blaine imagined meeting a boy and falling in love, and _then_ giving his life and name over to that boy, while taking the other’s in return.

 

Even though he knew a Declaration was possible at Dalton, Blaine never thought it actually would. Not to him, anyway. There’d been other proposals and matches during his years at the school. The first one was between two seniors when he was just a freshman and Blaine blushed the rest of the day when he realized what it meant. Only some of the seniors were old enough, so it wasn’t a particularly common occurrence. And no one was _required_ to get engaged at eighteen; it was just when they could. But it happened to him, and of all people, it was _Sebastian_ who Declared for him. Blaine wanted to know why, beyond the useless, trivial reasons that were formally presented to his parents the night before. There were plenty of boys, plenty of _Dalton_ boys, who matched the same criteria for the Smythes: rich, old blood, untainted reputation. So why him?

 

Except Blaine was fairly certain he knew why. There was no denying the way Sebastian had pursued him upon his return to Dalton after his time in Paris. He’s returned the once and future king of the school, newly eighteen and free to make his Declaration upon whomever he chose. Sebastian had walked into the Warbler’s choir room like he’d already been invited, like he didn’t need to re-audition a note. Blaine had felt Sebastian’s bright, calculating eyes land on him in an instant. And he hadn’t looked away since.

 

Blaine flipped back through the calendar three months to that day’s entry and finally noticed that Sebastian had written _Breakfast_ in the box. Blaine frowned in confusion, but tacked the calendar up on the wall anyway. Whatever it meant, whatever its purpose, it was still a gift from his Suitor and it would horribly uncouth of him to discard it. He may not like the man, but he would respect the tradition in certain ways. And Blaine knew too that soon he’d be expected to present Sebastian with a gift in return.

 

He was almost finished getting dressed for the day when there was a knock on his door. He opened it to find Sebastian on the other side.

 

“Good morning,” Sebastian drawled. He was tall and slim in a perfectly pressed uniform. His hair was styled back from his forehead in a way that probably took him far too much time in the morning and there was a tiny smirk quirking his lips. Blaine wanted to slam the door in his face.

 

“What are you doing here?” Blaine asked. His eyes flickered down Sebastian’s long body, taking in his clothes – the sharp edges of his cuffs, the perfect knot of tie, the crease of his slacks. Blaine somehow felt underdressed, even though he was only missing his cufflinks and blazer.

 

“Did you get my gift?” Sebastian’s eyes shifted from Blaine’s face and when found something over Blaine’s head, his smirk grew. “Ah, I see you did.”

 

Blaine pressed his lips together against words he should not say. He hated how pleased Sebastian was to see the calendar up on the wall already. “What you doing here?” Blaine asked again.

 

Sebastian cocked an eyebrow. “Breakfast? You liked my gift well enough to hang it up -- surely you looked through it. At least the first day.”

 

Blaine blushed in sudden understanding. “You -- you penciled in, in a...a…” He couldn’t bring himself to say _date_. They weren’t dates. He was never going to _date_ Sebastian. He might end up married to the man, but he wasn’t going to date him.

 

“Oh, darling, this is going to be so fun.” Sebastian took a step towards Blaine, up to the threshold of his doorway, and Blaine took a step back.

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

Sebastian’s eyes darkened. There was something to be said for Blaine’s ongoing resistance. It had been months of trying to get Blaine to surrender to him, unsuccessfully, to be sure, but now Blaine was almost his. Now, Sebastian had three months dedicated to making Blaine realize it too. Sebastian knew that Blaine did not loathe him quite as much as he pretended.

 

Well, perhaps Blaine _did_ loathe him that much, Sebastian allowed, but he could tell Blaine was attracted to him too. That much he had to work with, at least. The rest would naturally follow.

 

“You’re not wearing your blazer,” Sebastian notes, pushing into Blaine’s room.

 

“Hey, this is my room. You can’t just barge in,” Blaine protested as Sebastian headed for his closet. Sebastian walked right through his room like he belonged there, like it was his space too. Blaine did not miss the disdainful glance Sebastian sent the pile of dark fabric that was his expensive suit from the night before, still crumpled on on the floor. “Get out.”

 

“You’ll not be going down to breakfast unless you’re properly dressed.” Sebastian grabbed one of Blaine’s blazers off the rack and turned back towards Blaine, holding the blazer out.

 

“Well,” Blaine folded his arms over his chest. “It’s a good thing I’m not going to breakfast with you, isn’t it?” Blaine regretted the words the moment he said them. A muscle in Sebastian jaw twitched and his hands tightened on the shoulders of the blazer, wrinkling the fabric. That had been rude of him, uncouth towards his official Suitor, and Blaine’s upbringing wanted for an apology. He knew it was expected of him, but he couldn’t; he pride sat choking in his throat.

 

“Aren’t you?” Sebastian’s lips thinned and his eyes hardened. “As my Intended, it would be incredibly… discourteous of you to refuse me. _Especially_ on the first day of the Courtship.” Sebastian took a deep, steadying breath. “And it is my wish that you accompany me to breakfast this morning.”

 

Blaine knew why. It was all part of the standard Courtship. Sebastian was going to show him off to the rest of the school. He was going to make his formal Declaration of Intent so that everyone in the goddamn school knew Blaine was officially spoken for. There would be no hiding it. His friends would know he was Declared for. The Warblers would know. His fucking _teachers_ would know. Everyone. Hell, the Dean would make a note of it in his personnel file. There would be no hiding it, no ignoring it, no waiting for it to go away.

 

It wasn’t going to go away even if he rejected Sebastian’s offer.

 

“Blaine.”

 

Sebastian’s tone was gentler than it had been moments before. Blaine lifted his gaze from the blazer and met Sebastian’s eyes. Blaine couldn’t name the look in them at all, but it wasn’t the look Sebastian had had the last time he was this close. This wasn’t the heated, predatory look Sebastian had pinned him with in the dim hallway at his parents’ estate. Sebastian held the blazer out expectantly. Blaine took a deep breath, pressed his lips together, and held his arms out and back.

 

He didn’t see the tiniest of smiles that curved Sebastian’s mouth as he slid the blazer up Blaine’s arms and settled it on his shoulders.

 

Sebastian slowly turned Blaine around to face him, guiding him with hands still on Blaine’s shoulders. He thought he could feel the embarrassed heat radiating from Blaine as he slowly buttoned up the blazer. Sebastian could hear the soft hitch in Blaine’s breath when he fastened the first button, could feel the tension in his corded muscles as he held himself still. He knew Blaine struggling with the urge to pull away from him, and the knowledge was unsettlingly cold in his belly. He _wanted_ Blaine to want to be touched by him. He wanted Blaine to seek out his hands, his heat. He wanted to grab Blaine and pull him close, find his mouth, and claim what would rightfully be his. Patience would be have to be his first.

 

“There.” Sebastian smoothed his fingers down Blaine’s chest and smiled when Blaine shivered under his touch. “Now you’re ready.”

 

“Not quite,” Blaine countered and there was a definite hitch in his voice.

 

“Oh?” Sebastian was not expecting a thank you, but he’d hoped.

 

“My cufflinks.”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

Sebastian watched as Blaine grabbed the Dalton cufflinks off his desk and deftly secured him at his wrists. Every student at Dalton was issued a pair stamped with the school’s crest, and it was proper for a single boy with no claims on him to wear either those, or ones marked with his family seal. Watching Blaine fasten the cufflinks to his shirt reminded Sebastian of one particular gift he was to give to Blaine, and one he could give soon.

 

“There,” Blaine said. “Now I’m ready.”


	4. The Announcement

**_Dalton Dining Hall:_ **

 

The dining hall was already packed when Sebastian and Blaine arrived. Blaine could see a number of confused heads turning their way when their classmates noticed they’d arrived together. Surprise and curiosity dawned on the boys’ features and Blaine felt the embarrassed flush begin to creep into his cheeks.

 

On their walk down from Blaine’s room to the dining hall, Blaine had sensed that Sebastian wanted him to take his arm as an obvious gesture of their new status, but Blaine had shifted away from the brush of Sebastian’s sleeve against his. He’d missed the look of annoyance that had passed across Sebastian’s face in an instant.

 

“Don’t get shy now,” Sebastian said. He could feel Blaine’s hesitation and the nerves radiating off him. He wanted to show off his prize, wanted to walk him around the bustling hall until everyone in the school knew that Blaine was his now and no one else’s.

 

“I’m not shy,” Blaine protested.

 

“Come now, where’s that famed Anderson showmanship?” Sebastian asked, and he turned to watch Blaine’s profile. He really was beautiful, with his rounded cheeks, big eyes, and full lips. The fact that Blaine had resisted him wasn’t the only reason Sebastian wanted him. His charms were obvious and numerous, from his wild hair to the thick muscles in his thighs. He was no ordinary boy at all. Sebastian had known that about him from the moment he first saw him.

 

Blaine’s jaw clenched, a muscle twitching in his cheek, and Sebastian thought he could see the moment Blaine made his decision to relent. Sebastian restrained his grin when Blaine’s shifted and his arm slid into the offered crook of Sebastian’s.

 

“There we are,” Sebastian said, tucking his arm in and forcing Blaine to stand that bit closer. Blaine bristled.

 

“This doesn’t mean anything,” Blaine said through clenched teeth.

 

“Of course it doesn’t, darling.”

 

Blaine did not miss the gently mocking tone in Sebastian’s voice, countered as it was by the subtle squeeze of his arm.

 

The Warblers generally sat together at a long table along the North side of the dining hall. That morning, almost of the boys were already present when Blaine and Sebastian finally showed up.

 

"Blaine?” Nick asked, looking at them with obvious confusion. “What are you doing with Sebastian?"

 

"He,” Blaine swallowed thickly. “We uh, that is...you see--"

 

“We're Contracted,” Sebastian announced, cutting off Blaine’s stuttering. The dining hall went silent and Blaine flushed darkly, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I've Declared for Blaine Anderson and he is now my Intended.” A swell of applause rose up from the dining hall that made Blaine want to sink into under the floorboards and never return.

 

Sebastian noted Blaine's discomfiture and quickly turned them away from the whole of the student body to just the table of Warblers. He did not want Blaine to hate every moment of this. That was not the point at all.

 

"Uhm, well, congratulations," Wes said perfunctorily, tripping his head at them.

 

Sebastian smirked at the table of wide eyes and dropped jaws. He could see the disapproval in their faces, their pity for Blaine. Of everyone in the school, Sebastian had been prepared for the Warblers to be the ones to find fault in his Declaration. But he knew they would never say anything confrontational to his face about it, even though Blaine was their favored friend. It just wasn't done in polite society. Certainly though, they would whisper about him when his back was turned. That too he was prepared for.

 

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I'm going to get Blaine and I some breakfast." Sebastian withdrew his arm, but his fingers lingered on Blaine’s wrist, on the bare skin just below his cuff.

 

Blaine's ears felt hot. Of course he didn't even get to pick out his own meal. Barely a day in and already his choices were being taken away from him.

 

"Blaine, what the fuck?" Nick asked, when Sebastian was out of range.

 

"I don't know." Blaine shrugged and sank into a free chair. There was an empty one to his left that he knew Sebastian would take when he returned. His days of hiding at the other end of the table from Sebastian were long over. "I honestly don't know. He Declared. Went to his parents and my parents and drew up a Contract. All perfectly by the book. There's nothing I can do." He spread his hands out in a plaintive gesture, as though the space between his palms held some sort of answer.

 

"But, you can't stand him." Nick's eyebrows were drawn and he kept glancing over at Jeff.

 

"I'm aware."

 

"Your parents agreed to this?” That was Wes.

 

"He's from an excellent family." That much was true. For however much he hated the thought of being contracted to Sebastian, of being married to him, there was a part of Blaine, deep down, that was preening. Gloating, just a little, that a Smythe wanted him. It was a part of himself that made him very uncomfortable. When he could have anyone at all, Sebastian had picked _him_. Blaine just wished he knew why. "You know they had no viable reason to reject his proposal. It would have been exactly the same for any you."

 

Wes wrinkled his nose and had to agree. Things were a little different for Nick and Jeff. They had an Understanding. And while it wasn't strictly a binding Contract, since they were both still underage, no one but the rudest of men or women would have the nerve to Declare for either of them.

 

"But he's a dick,” Jeff said.

 

"I'm aware of that too."

 

"Why didn't you just reject his proposal outright?"

 

"You know very well why,” Blaine rubbed tiredly at his still gritty eyes. It was going to be a very long day, he knew. “It leaves a mark on the whole family. Forever. You know how everyone still talks about Jeremiah. I couldn't do that to my parents. Not when they asked me to at least consider it." Blaine’s older brother, Cooper, had already made their parents proud with his marriage and career; Blaine wasn't about to spoil that legacy by acting rashly.

 

"So, three months with Sebastian as your Suitor. Wow.” Wes shook his head. “That's really gonna put a damper on your attempts to get laid."

 

"Yeah,” Trent smirked. “Because it was going so well for him otherwise."

 

"Hey." Blaine's lack of experience was unfortunately well known throughout the school, and now, thanks to Sebastian’s Contract, everyone else who cared to know.

 

"Sebastian's been trying to get into his pants since he started here,” Wes pointed out. “Looks like he finally found a way."

 

Blaine paled. He'd been trying to put that part of the arrangement out of his mind. It was one thing to try and consider spending his life married to Sebastian, it was quite another to try and square with the reality of what would be expected of him. Their marriage technically wouldn't be finalized if it wasn't consummated, although force was strictly forbidden and carried harsh consequences.

 

"Oh, dude,” Nick patted Blaine’s arm. “I'm sorry.”

 

"No it's fine. It's true." Blaine remembered the day they'd met, at Sebastian’s homecoming gala. How Sebastian had looked him up and down before even introducing himself, and in front of his parents no less. As if he had no care or concern about propriety. And Blaine remembered every day after that. Sebastian’s heated gaze following him through the Dalton hallways, how Sebastian would stand too close next to him during Warbler practices, how the warmth of him would seep through Blaine's clothes and into his skin. Blaine tried in vain not to think about being spread out underneath Sebastian on a soft bed with tangled sheets. Open. Exposed. He shuddered to think of Sebastian's hands on his naked skin. His mouth. The press of his long body against his own. The way his amber and tobacco cologne seemed to soak into everything; how it would be all over him, lingering on his own skin.

 

"Well, he's a creep for doing this,” Jeff offered, breaking Blaine out of his thoughts.

 

"Hey," Blaine protested with a slight frown. "He's my Suitor now. As much as I can't stand him, you can't talk about him like that. At least not in public." Blaine was expected to defend his Suitor, and Sebastian would be expected to do the same for him. It was weird how comforting Blaine suddenly found that. He shoved the confusing feeling away.

 

"This is going to be so fucking weird.” Wes said.

 

"You're telling me.” Blaine wished he had a very large cup of coffee in his hands right then.

 

"I hope you're not slandering me to the table behind my back on the very first day of our Contract."

 

Blaine startled at the sound of Sebastian's voice and twisted around in his seat. Sebastian was a few steps away, carrying a single dining tray that was too full for just one person.

 

"Of course not," Blaine protested, rather forcefully. "I wouldn't do that." Sebastian stared down at him and Blaine flushed a little at the scrutiny. Even if he didn't like the situation he’d found himself in, he wanted Sebastian to know he was taking it seriously. He wasn't about to make a mockery of it, or Sebastian.

 

Sebastian set the tray down in the space between their two seats and Blaine stared. There was Sebastian's usual eggs and toast, but there was also a bowl of oatmeal sprinkled with cinnamon and brown sugar and a side of fruit: Blaine's standard weekday breakfast. And two cups of coffee.

 

"What?" Sebastian asked, when he noticed Blaine staring. "You think I don't know what you like for breakfast? You think I haven't noticed that you get oatmeal and fruit every morning. And occasionally toast if you're extra hungry, which means you're nervous about something. And that on the weekends, if you don't go home, you get pancakes and bacon and sometimes even potatoes. Come on, now." Sebastian passed Blaine the cup of coffee that was sweetened with cream and sugar. "I know a lot of things about you, Anderson."

 

Blaine bit his lip and accepted the cup. He took a sip and found that it was perfect. “Thank you,” he said softly, just loud enough for Sebastian to hear.

 

Sebastian smiled then, a real smile. “You’re welcome.”

 

Some of the tension eased out of Blaine’s shoulders as he left the gentle hum of a hundred conversations take over. It was just the first of many days yet to come. He needed to take these days one step at a time and not let his pride make them harder than they already would be.

 

***

 

The first week of the Courtship passed in something of a haze for Blaine. Sometimes he thought he’d found rhythm for his new life. He got up, he had breakfast, he went to class, he showed up at practice, he did his schoolwork, and he went to bed. Everything was almost the same as it had been the week before. But now there was Sebastian.

 

Sebastian came to his room every morning before breakfast. He knocked on the door with a strange deference that still made Blaine’s stomach tighten, and he stood by Blaine’s desk as he finished getting reading. Sebastian’s eyes narrowed with some unknown thought whenever he watched Blaine fasten the standard Dalton cufflinks at his wrists, but Blaine did not ask him to give name to those thoughts.

 

Before they walked out the door, Sebastian helped Blaine into his blazer, his hands strong and sure on Blaine’s shoulders before smoothing down his arms. His touch felt careful, practiced, as though he were testing what he could get away with, what was okay between them. That kind of touch was certainly allowed, Blaine knew. The common rules of Courtships did not forbid touch outright; they could even kiss, if they so wanted. And Sebastian wanted, Blaine knew that too. He knew it by the way Sebastian’s eyes lingers on his mouth whenever they were near, and he knew it by the way Sebastian had tried to kiss him before. But Blaine did not want it in return.

 

He still could not shake that everything that was happening because Sebastian had designed it to. This was happening because Sebastian had Declared for Blaine without bothering to ask if Blaine was at all interested him. And Blaine’s position in society gave him little recourse and almost no choice. A few days of kindness from Sebastian could not so easily make him forget that the reason for this was because Blaine could not hardly say no to his proposal without incurring harsh consequences for himself and his family.

 

But denying Sebastian kisses now did not remove him from Blaine’s life.

 

He walked with Blaine down to the dining hall for breakfast every morning, and guided Blaine to a seat at the customary Warbler table before grabbing food and coffee for the both of them. They had but a few classes together this semester, but Sebastian still found him in the hallways after a lesson and walked with him towards the next. He jostled Blaine’s elbow and asked him about that day’s class. Blaine found it easy enough to say a few neutral words in response before disappearing into the next class room.

 

Of everything, Warbler and fencing practice felt the most normal, felt the most like Blaine’s old life. In the choir room he could let Wes take control of those hours, close his eyes, and sing. He didn’t need to think about Sebastian standing nearby, because he always had been. Blaine could just let the harmonies of a dozen voices ebb around him, let the strain in his throat ground him. He’d always felt most at ease surrounded by song. That did not change just because he was mostly betrothed to someone he did not like. His position on the council required but a little from him besides.

 

And in the sparring hall, Blaine could slip on his mask, step on to the _piste_ , and become anonymous. He could grunt and sweat and throw himself into his technique and pretend, for just a few minutes, like no one knew who he was beneath the mask. Those moments of separation from himself, of a particular kind of free, helped carry him through that week. He could tell himself that nothing had changed, like Sebastian was still just another arrogant, conceited asshole who thought the world owed him his every desire. He could tell himself with every attack of his practice foil that the world was the same as it always had been and that Sebastian was still just that other boy who looked at him a little too long with a little too much heat in his eyes.

 

Blaine could not deny that Sebastian still made him nervous, even by the end of the week when the days had begun to feel almost routine. He had acted more the gentlemen than Blaine would have expected from someone like him, but Blaine knew it was only that. An act. Lurking there beneath the pressed Dalton blazer was still the lewd, impossible man who propositioned Blaine with sex at his homecoming party, and again the night he presented Blaine with the Declaration paperwork.

 

Blaine wasn’t a prude. He did not feel shame over his body or sex. He did not hide himself in the showers from the other boys and did not hesitate to tell younger students that yes, masturbation was perfectly normal and natural and should be indulged in when desired. He did not see sex as something to be worried about, to fear, or to resist. But Blaine had a deep respect for himself and his own desires; he had no interest in bouncing between partners just because he could. He passed no judgement on his friends who already had multiple partners; those were their choices and their bodies. As long as health and happiness remained, Blaine was fine. His ingrained following of the traditions of his station in society was hard to shake once those traditions were invoked, as they were when Sebastian Declared for him. And that said nothing of the legality of his present situation.

 

Should he decide to sleep with Sebastian, he would be accepting the proposal forthright, with little other recourse to change his fate. And should he sleep with someone else, the Declaration would become invalid and someone else would be free to declare their own Intention towards him. Of course, sleeping with someone other than his Intended would paint a dark swatch across his name that he would likely carry with him forever. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair, but it was the way of his world.


	5. A Warning and a Gift

_Dalton Academy, Finnegan S. Dalton Library_

 

Sebastian sat in one of the many study rooms inside the extensive Finnegan S. Dalton Library. The room overlooked the western grounds of the campus, and the wild winter rose garden that the wife of one of the founders had insisted on having.

 

Instead of focusing on his French assignment, which was a complete waste of his time and far below his abilities, or his European history paper, which he cared not one wit about, Sebastian frowned down at the purchase order spread out on the table in front of him.

 

Brannigan & Sons were the finest custom and antique jewelers in the country and Sebastian had employed their expertise for his first true Courtship gift to Blaine. It was a traditional gift, and not one that wanted for any creativity, but Sebastian was still going to provide the best for his Intended.

 

“So, the Anderson kid.”

 

Sebastian looked up at the intrusion to find Greg Lee leaning against the doorjamb, his dark hair artfully askew and his blazer unbuttoned and open around his body. Sebastian frowned. Greg was...a friend. Of sorts. They’d fucked a few times before Sebastian had taken his semester abroad.

 

Greg still wanted him, he knew, but Sebastian had sampled everything Greg had to offer and had no need of further tasting.

 

“What about him?”

 

“It’s a bit embarrassing that he said no, isn’t it?”

 

Shame flashed hot and wicked through Sebastian, but he kept his face schooled impassively. “He didn’t say no,” he replied cooly, no waver in his voice betraying him.

 

“Well, he didn’t say yes.”

 

“It’s really none of your concern.”

 

Greg smirked. “It will be.”

 

Sebastian did not want to take the obvious bait, but he couldn’t help it. Greg’s slick, leading tone and the sneer on his face made Sebastian’s hackles rise. “And what is that supposed to mean.”

 

Greg took a rolling step into the study room, body languid with unearned swagger. “You can’t be so stupid,” he said, tapping his fingers on Sebastian’s table.

 

“If you have anything worthwhile to say, then I suggest you say it quickly and leave. Or just leave. Some of us don’t have mothers fucking their English instructors after Sunday tennis lessons and actually have to study.”

 

Greg ignored the jab with a deeper sneer. “Blaine is stringing you along, invoking this little Interim, and he’s going to reject you at the end of it. Everyone knows. And when he does, he’ll be free for the taking.”

 

It took everything in Sebastian’s will not to rise up and take a swing at Greg’s smug jaw. “He is not going to reject me,” Sebastian grit out, remaining seated and staring calmly up at Greg. “But if he did, what makes you think he’d ever agree to a Declaration from you?”

 

“Because,” Greg stepped over to one of the windows and appeared to gaze out at the rose garden. “He doesn’t know me. I’m safe...compared to _you_.”

 

The remark stung deeper than Sebastian cared to think about. “You? Safe? Everyone in this school knows you’re a walking STD pamphlet.”

 

“And everyone in this school knows you’ve been trying to fuck Anderson since you first saw him. And that he’s rejected you left and right. And now he’s rejected your Proposal. Tsk tsk, Smythe. When are you going to learn to let it go? That he doesn’t want you. But me? He has no reason to say no to me.”

 

Greg tapped the glass of the window with his fingernail before turning on his heel. He held Sebastian’s narrow-eyed gaze for a long beat before walking out of the room.

 

Sebastian exhaled deeply when he was gone. Every muscle in his body felt locked up tight and he realized that he’d been clenching his fist. When he uncurled his fingers, he found little red half-moons blooming on his palm where his nails had dug into his flesh.

 

He was angry and embarrassed. Greg had no right to speak to him as he had. The Lee family were newer blood than his and nowhere near the standing of the Smythe’s. He was no one of importance at all. Sebastian snarled at the thought of Blaine with anyone else but him. He hated to see Blaine even casually touching one of the other Warblers, or conversing in private with another student over homework in the library. The idea of Blaine on another’s arm, in another’s bed, especially someone like Greg Lee, made Sebastian’s stomach hurt.

 

Before him was the order form for Brannigan & Sons. He had a few days yet for his gift to be ready to give to Blaine. In the meantime, he needed to figure out if he’d been going about this the wrong way. He would need to be more careful than he’d originally thought, needed to approach the situation differently, to ensure that Blaine would not reject his Proposal.

 

There was much at stake, Sebastian thought, perhaps more than he’d realized.

 

***

 

_Dalton: Room 442, Blaine’s Room_

 

Blaine was barely finished getting dressed for his first class when there was a knock on his door. His stomach tightened in expectation - there were only a handful of people who would come by at this early hour, only one who would do so with any frequency.

 

Sebastian stood smiling on the other side when Blaine opened the door with reluctance. “Good morning,” he said.

 

“Remains to be seen,” Blaine responded curtly, perhaps more so than he’d intended. But he’d had a dream the night before, of a chess board with too few pieces and a lonesome bird trapped in a cage. It hadn’t taken much consideration to parse what it mean when he’d wokent.

 

“I have a surprise for you,” Sebastian said, stepping into Blaine’s room even though Blaine had not yet invited him inside.

 

“You’re withdrawing your Declaration?” Blaine asked as he shut the door with a quiet sound, sarcasm sharp in his mouth. He regretted the words instantly, but could not take them back. Some days were easier to get through than others.

 

Sebastian’s eyes flashed, but his face remained mostly impassive. “There’s no need for such discourteousness when I’ve brought you something.”

 

Blaine squared his shoulders. Sebastian was wearing his standard, slightly boxy Dalton uniform, but Blaine suddenly remembered him in the expensive slim-cut suit he’d worn at his homecoming party. He’d looked good that night; Blaine was not so foolish as to tell himself that Sebastian was not attractive. He was. But his looks were not the issue at hand. The breadth of his shoulders and the slimness of his thighs were not what concerned Blaine. Nor was it the exquisite shape of his hands, his long fingers, the tracery of veins. No, those were not the problem at all.

 

Sebastian cleared his throat and Blaine tore his gaze away, blushing as he did so. Sebastian’s little grin told Blaine that his focused attention had not gone unnoticed.

 

“Blaine Anderson,” Sebastian began. “In honor of our Courtship, I wish to present to you this small token of my affection and esteem.” The words were formal, but the slight lilt in his voice said he found the tradition of it a bit ridiculous. Blaine did not completely disagree, even if his heart beat just a little faster at the show of it.

 

In his hands Sebastian held a small box of deep mahogany, not much bigger than the kind that might hold a ring. Blaine swallowed at the sight of it, deeply aware that such a thing was undoubtedly in his near future.

 

“Thank you,” Blaine said as he took the box.

 

“Are you going to stare at it, or open it?” Sebastian teased and Blaine shushed him.

 

His fingers trembled ever so, but he lifted the lid. Inside, gleaming bright against soft black velvet, were a pair of silver cufflinks.

 

Blaine’s heart leapt into his throat at the sight of them; he could not help it. “Oh, you--”

 

The cufflinks were an old, storied tradition Blaine knew well, though he’d kept himself from thinking about it, as he’d done so many other things during this trial. The top faces of the cufflinks were beautifully etched with the Smythe family crest and Blaine immediately adored them, despite himself.

 

“They took a bit longer to have made than I anticipated,” Sebastian said. “Else I’d have given them to you last week.”

 

Blaine nodded, still looking at the little pieces of jewelry. It seemed so strange that something so small could carry so much meaning, even when so much of him rebelled at the mere idea of them.

 

“Here, let me help you.”

 

Blaine’s heart beat wildly in his chest as Sebastian crowded in close. He held as still as he could as Sebastian carefully worked the first of his old cufflinks - marked with the Dalton insignia - free of his shirt. But he couldn’t stop the shiver that raced up his spine at the brush of Sebastian’s long, thin fingers against the delicate skin of his wrist.

 

This was one of the traditions he did not care for, and honestly it rankled him deeply. Until he accepted or rejected Sebastian’s proposal, he would wear the Smythe family crest on his person. Until a ring settled on his finger and the Contract was signed, or he declined the Declaration entirely, the cufflinks would let anyone else know that he was spoken for, if only temporarily. And it made Blaine feel marked, branded. Like property. The illusion of romantic intentions could not hide behind that obvious symbolism.

 

Which was the crux of the problem all along. As a second born child he was in many ways still a possession of his family name waiting to be given to the highest bidder. So much of his life had been decided for him already, and Blaine could feel the very weight of it at his wrists.

 

“There,” Sebastian said. His fingers hovered over Blaine’s skin, not quite touching. “Those look nice, don’t they.”

 

Blaine stared at the jewelry for a long moment. They were silver and obviously expensive. The engraving was done with a fine hand and Blaine wondered if Sebastian had commissioned them for this purpose alone, if it they were a family heirloom he’d sent for. Perhaps one day he’d ask.

 

“They uh--” Blaine cleared his dry throat. “Thank you. They’re beautiful,” he said, because it was the truth. He might hate the meaning of them, but the aesthetic of them was undeniable.

 

When Blaine finally looked up, Sebastian’s mouth was twitching like he was concealing a smile. “I could have others made for you,” he said. “Gold. Steel. Platinum. Something with diamonds even. You could have an assortment so you needn’t wear the same pair every day.”

 

Blaine resisted rolling his eyes at the comment. “The one pair will suffice. I don’t want for extravagance, you should know that. Thank you, Sebastian. They are lovely,” he said sincerely.

 

A muscle in Sebastian’s jaw flickered and he nodded curtly. His expression was surprising; shuttered, as though he’d schooled his face into purposeful blankness before Blaine could see what was truly in his eyes.

 

“Yes, well. Shall we head down to breakfast?”

 

“I just need my coat.”

 

Sebastian nodded. He strode confidently to Blaine’s closet and pulled out one of his blazers. But before Sebastian could come back, Blaine stepped over to him and turned, holding his arms back to allow Sebastian to easily slide the blazer onto him. Strong hands rested on his shoulders for a moment, squeezing the muscle just slightly, before falling away.

 

Blaine remembered to breathe again after a moment.

 

“Ready?” Sebastian asks, a warm look in his eyes, and Blaine held his arm out for Sebastian to take.

 

“Ready.”

 

***

 

_Dalton Courtyard_

 

A few days later, Nick and Jeff found Blaine sitting on a stone bench underneath a gnarled, old oak tree in the Dalton Courtyard. He was bundled up in a peacoat and scarf, but his nose was still pinked in the late afternoon chill.

 

“Hey, Blaine,” Nick called out, raising a hand in greeting with Blaine looked up.

 

“Hey, guys.”

 

“You doing okay?” Jeff asked, sitting down on the bench beside him, while Nick sat close to Jeff’s hip. Blaine had always envied their comfortable, easy familiarity with each other.

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

A look passed between Nick and Jeff that Blaine just knew was filled with silent communication. He envied them that, as he envied them so much.

 

“It’s just that we haven’t really seen you much lately,” Nick said. “You’re always kind of, you know, elsewhere.”

 

Blaine felt bad, he hadn’t seen much of his friends outside of classes and practices since Sebastian had Declared for him, so wrapped up by the process as he’d become. And so consumed with his own worries and concerns.

 

“I know,” Blaine replied. “I’m sorry. It’s just--”

 

“We get it,” Jeff interrupted with an easy smile. “You’ve got this Sebastian thing going on.”

 

Blaine snorted. That was a simplified way of putting it. “Yeah.”

 

“We know you’re going to say that you’re fine,” Nick said and he looked at Blaine with limitless compassion. “But we just want to know that you actually are.”

 

Blaine sighed and looked down at this hands. Underneath and long sleeves of his pea coat, the silver cufflinks from Sebastian glittered at his wrists. He put them on each morning with an odd feeling in his stomach. And now, sitting in his pocket was a box that contained his own gift for Sebastian, picked up just that afternoon from the shop. Another tradition that, though he chafed at the requirements of it, he had once thought he would share with someone he loved and admired. And that too was taken from him.

 

“Blaine?”

 

Blaine wanted to say a million things, wanted to ask a million more, but suddenly he was irrationally jealous of his friends, these two boys who had found each other early and wanted no others. They would never have to go through the uncertainly of a Declaration like this - they had chosen each other over all others.

 

“You guys are so fucking lucky,” Blaine finally said. “I hope you know that.”

 

Nick and Jeff looked at each other and Blaine almost couldn’t bear the love and adoration apparent on this expressions. “We know,” Jeff said for the both of them.

 

“Come out with us tonight,” Nick offered and he clapped Blaine on the shoulder. “We’ll see who else can get away from their homework and we’ll go...bowling or something. Anything.”

 

Blaine shook his head sadly. “Sorry, can’t. I’ve...got a date.” The word tasted bitter and strange in his mouth.

 

Jeff blinked a few times. “A date?”

 

“With Sebastian?” Nick asked and Blaine rolled his eyes.

 

“Who else?”

 

Jeff looked at Nick, and then back at Blaine. “You know you don’t...have to do that. It’s not, like, required.”

 

Blaine shrugged. “I know,” he agreed, and it was true. Dates were required by the constructs of the Declarations, but many couples went on them anyway. “But he asked.”

 

Sebastian hadn’t exactly asked Blaine out on the date. On the calendar hanging in his room, the one given to him by Sebastian at the beginning of this ordeal, the day was marked with “ **7pm** ” in Sebastian’s bold writing. Blaine had seen it earlier, but hadn’t given it much thought until Sebastian had reminded him that morning to dress nicely.

 

“Oh, well. I hope you guys have a good time,” Nick said, gamely.

 

“He’s not _all_ bad,” Jeff offered and then he blushed when both Blaine and Nick stared at him. “What? He’s not. I’m not saying he’s suddenly an angel and that we should all be worshipping him, but you both have to admit he’s been a lot more tolerable since this whole thing began. He even helped Wes out with some Warbler paperwork last week. Remember the last time someone tried to get him to do paperwork?”

 

Blaine bit his lip gently. He couldn’t exactly deny that Sebastian had in fact been acting a little differently these last weeks since the Declaration, but Blaine didn’t know if it was real, or just part of his act to get Blaine to agree to his Proposal at the end of the Interim. Then Blaine thought of the soft look in Sebastian’s eyes in the morning when he would push a coffee cup towards Blaine, and he thought of the increasingly affectionate way Sebastian would hold his arm as they walked.

 

“No,” Blaine agreed softly. “I suppose he’s not all bad.”

 

But _not all bad_ did not mean _good_. And that didn’t mean the next month or so was going to be any easier.


	6. A Date and an Exchange

_Dalton, Room 442, Blaine’s Room:_

 

Blaine had no idea what Sebastian had planned for their date that night. Knowing Sebastian as he did, anything felt possible, though Sebastian had indicated there would simply be dinner and dancing. It wasn’t as though he had a whole lot of experience behind him. He’d gone out for a couple of coffee dates with a boy early in his sophomore year, but they’d barely gotten around to holding hands before the boy transferred to another state. And he’d kissed a boy named Jeremiah on New Year’s, but he hardly counted that as anything (and would certainly never tell Sebastian about it). Hell, Blaine hardly knew what to _wear_ on a date.

 

It took him a few tries before he settled on a maroon sweater that he thought fit him fairly well and jeans that turned up at the ankles. It was cold out, with fall deepening towards winter, but he had a beautiful, heavy coat his parents had given him for his 17th birthday. He left his hair a little looser than normal, in deference to leaving campus for this, and by the time Sebastian knocked on his door, he felt ready. Almost. His appearance did not calm the nervous tension thrumming through him.

 

His stomach was still in knots when he opened the door; he would have been nervous were it anyone picking him up, not just Sebastian.

 

Green eyes looked him up and down with an unveiled interest that made Blaine blush. It was exactly the kind of thing that made him so nervous. Blaine could be as sex positive as he wanted, but when Sebastian looked at him as though he was desperate for just a taste of him, Blaine could not help the heat that flooded his stomach.

 

“Don’t you look nice, darling,” Sebastian purred. He was wearing a dark grey sweater and black fitted trousers that surely cost a fortune.

 

“Thank you,” Blaine responded. “You look very nice yourself.”

 

Sebastian looked down at himself. “Well, I didn’t want to dress too formally for this evening.”

 

“Where are we going?”

 

Sebastian cocked his head. “And spoil the surprise?”

 

Blaine pressed his lips together. “I rather think I’ve had enough surprises for my lifetime.”

 

Sebastian looked thoughtful. “Perhaps. Tonight is just dinner and a bit of dancing. I know you’re the kind of boy who likes that sort of thing, being wined and dined.”

 

Blaine blushed at his own transparency. “Well, who wouldn’t?”

 

“Just so. Well, shall we? We have reservations.”

 

“Yes. Oh, wait!” Blaine quickly crossed the room and dug the small box out of the pocket of his coat. “I have a small token for you,” he said. It was his turn to give Sebastian a ceremonial gift.

 

Sebastian took the box slowly. He had an unreadable look in his eyes, almost as if he was considering something for the first time, and Blaine suddenly worried that he should have forgone this tradition altogether.

 

“You don’t--” Blaine began to say, but Sebastian quickly opened the lid.

 

Inside the box lay a silver coin, about the size of a silver dollar. An actual coin, the piece was not engraved with the Anderson Family crest, or anything of the like. It was just a coin from the 1700s, purchased at an antique shop in town that specialized in just such gifts. Blaine chose it because he’d liked the look of it best, not that the appearance mattered so much in this. The coin symbolized an exchange - of wealth, of name, of life. That was its importance.

 

Blaine watched Sebastian’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed heavily and rubbed his thumb across the surface of the coin. A dozen different expressions flitted across Sebastian’s narrow features before he cleared his throat.

 

“I -- thank you, Blaine,” he said after a long moment of silence. “I accept your offering with utmost gratitude.” His voice was deeper than Blaine had heard it before, gruffer and laced with emotion.

 

Blaine wanted to kiss him then, so suddenly and unexpectedly he almost gasped. When he thinks back on it years later, he still won’t know what it was about that particular moment that brought with it such a powerful urge. Perhaps it was the startling flash of vulnerability in Sebastian’s eyes; not weakness, but a depth of feeling Blaine had not seen before. Perhaps it was the tenderness with which he held the coin, one of the oldest traditions. Perhaps it was something more, something unnamable that could only be felt.

 

It was right there in Blaine’s gut, the pure desire he hadn’t quite felt for Sebastian before. The want to kiss him for reasons beyond base attraction; an urge that overwhelmed his previous feelings and misgivings. His lips tingled with it and his hands clenched at his sides with the urge to reach out for Sebastian.

 

“Well,” Blaine said, breaking the moment before he acted on his desire before he was more certain of what his heart truly wanted. “Don’t we have reservations?”

 

Sebastian looked up from the coin, though his thumb continued to rub across the surface. His eyes were very green in that moment, his pupils wide. “That we do.”

 

***

 

Dinner was an awkward affair. Sebastian felt off balance and out of sorts. He hadn’t expected to react to the coin the way he had. Certainly he knew, intellectually, that it was coming. As the cufflinks were an ingrained part of the Courtship, so was the coin. It was not a surprise to him, though the way his heart beat double time when he saw it was.

 

Sebastian would not consider himself a romantic. Marriage was something that as the sole heir to his family name and fortune he was obligated to. Marrying for love was not something he had bothered to consider; his duty was to find and win the best match possible. And Blaine Anderson, though a second son, was one of the best he could hope to land. He need not love Blaine to want him, to value him as a prized match.

 

And yet, Sebastian could not deny that over the weeks something beyond desire was building in his gut. He could not refute the flutter his traitorous heart gave when Blaine offered him one of his rare smiles. (Rare to Sebastian; Blaine was generous with his happiness towards his other friends, something Sebastian noticed far too often.) The aching, prideful desire for Blaine was there, as it always had been, but something more was growing alongside it.

 

The restaurant Sebastian took them to was a small French bistro not terribly far from the school. The chef knew Sebastian’s father somehow and the food had never been disappointing.

 

Blaine looked adorable in his sweater and Sebastian had wanted desperately to run his hands along the soft fabric, but Blaine was still so skittish with him, and Sebastian knew from experience that he could not push too hard. Not if he wanted to keep Blaine, which he very much did.

 

But neither of them seemed to be able to find their voice over dinner. They commented pathetically about the weather and mumbled a few things about their classes and Warbler practices. The unease of the evening settled like cold lead in Sebastian’s stomach, but he did not know how to fix it. It wasn’t as though they were completely incapable of conversations. Sebastian had grown fond of their chats as of late, even if sometimes all they had to talk about was homework assignments and how tiring fencing practice was that day.

 

That evening, however, they both felt off. Blaine seemed embarrassed, somehow, though Sebastian wasn’t sure why. He knew that Blaine was not comfortable with the Courtship. Sebastian knew that Blaine would still prefer if he withdrew his Declaration and left him be. But this particular kind of embarrassment seemed to go beyond not being comfortable on a date; Blaine seemed shy, almost, as though he’d done something he might be called out on. But what, Sebastian didn’t know.

 

“Do you want to just get out of here?” Sebastian asked, before the waiter could return with coffee and dessert options.

 

Blaine’s gaze snapped up to his. His eyebrows were straight with concern. “What? No, I--I wouldn’t want to...”

 

“Blaine, darling,” Sebastian interrupted, reaching across the table to place his hands over Blaine’s. “It’s okay. We seem to be...not ourselves at the moment, and I did say there also be dancing.”

 

Blaine smiled in relief and Sebastian’s heart gave that insistent tug he was always growing accustomed to. “Yes you did.”

 

***

 

The club Sebastian took them to turned out to be far more laid back than Blaine had expected, with the sound of the low thumping music somehow trained mostly on the dance floor. Guests could hold conversations in the booths and still get a great view of the bodies writhing in the square pool of purple light in the middle of the old building. Still, somehow, when Sebastian had said dancing Blaine had expected something a little more classy.

 

“I’ll take you proper dancing another night,” Sebastian said low in Blaine’s ear, and Blaine shivered. He had no doubts of Sebastian’s skills in that area.

 

To Blaine’s surprise, Sebastian lead them to a large round booth where a number of other Warblers were already there laughing and drinking.

 

“I thought you might care for some...back up after a dinner alone with me,” Sebastian said in response to Blaine’s questioning look.

 

Blaine reached out and found Sebastian’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you,” he whispered. Sebastian nodded, even though his stomach clenched at the confirmation of his assumption.

 

The night progressed with much greater ease after that. Blaine took turns on the dance floor with his friends; Wes was an incredible dancer and Trent was happy to show him a few moves. Sebastian seemed mostly content to sit in the booth, nursing a Scotch and watching Blaine from the sidelines. Maybe it was the vodka collins, or maybe it was just the rising heat of too many people, but Blaine suddenly wanted to beckon Sebastian over to him, to allow Sebastian to put his hands on him and move his body to the music. Over Wes’s shoulder Blaine’s gaze met Sebastian’s, and for a moment Blaine thought that perhaps Sebastian would get up and come to him, but Sebastian only bowed his head slightly and smiled. But even that had warmed Blaine’s belly further.

 

Though it was technically against the rules for the younger boys to drink, Dalton Academy was well known to look the other way when its students had a night out. The Dalton boys were generally good about maintaining their decorum despite a few rounds, and no one would ever say that the men of Dalton were known to make fools of themselves. Even so, accidents happened.

 

Blaine heard the glass get knocked over before he saw it. Jeff jumped back from the spilled drink, but not quickly enough. Gin splashed across his trousers and onto his shoes.

 

“Aw fuck,” Jeff groaned, grabbing for napkins.

 

Sebastian smirked while Nick laughed so hard he could barely see.

 

It was Blaine who grabbed a club soda from the bar and then Jeff’s hand. “Come on, we’ll get you cleaned up.”

 

As Blaine walked by, Sebastian gently rested his hand on Blaine’s hip, and Blaine smiled as the light touch warmed through to his skin.

 

Blaine led Jeff to the men’s room at the back of the club. Here the music was quieter, the air cooler. Once inside, Blaine had a fair trial getting Jeff to stand upright long enough to wash the tails of his shirt in the sink and then under the hand dryer. Removing the shirt had proved impossible because of Jeff’s long, flailing limbs, so they’d had to improvise by awkwardly bending his lanky body double beneath the dryer.

 

“You’ve made a mess here,” Blaine chided.

 

Jeff’s face lolled on Blaine’s shoulder and he giggled messily. “Nick is _so_ hot.”

 

Blaine sighed and maneuvered Jeff to dry the hem of the shirt. “You have quite the partner in him,” Blaine agreed.

 

Jeff gurgled happily. “Nick is so perfect,” he slurred. “Too bad his family doesn’t approve of me. It doesn’t matter. Nick approves of me.

 

Blaine sighed and pulled Jeff upright. The whole school knew all too well what Nick’s ancient family thought of Jeff - the boy with the parents whose bank balance was lighter than their children’s fair hair. The Sterling brood was famously oversized compared to the family’s diminishing wealth over the past 50 years. Jeff’s situation beneath his older brother had started out reasonably respectable, and he and Nick had grown up confident that their engagement would be welcome. But as the number of Jeff’s younger siblings had increased to five, six, and finally seven, the Sterling name had dropped to being barely admissible in high society. The younger Sterlings relied solely on their two older brothers for their futures: one to earn a higher income than their father to regain their status, and the other to marry rich and provide in other ways.

 

Blaine felt for them terribly, and suddenly found himself ashamed at how quickly he had been prepared to throw off Sebastian’s offer and bring his own family’s name into disgrace. Not for the first time since the negotiations all those weeks ago, Blaine found himself reevaluating his situation, and his own feelings about it. He was not immune to circumstances.

 

“Jeff Sterling,” Blaine said sternly as he brushed Jeff’s hair into something more presentable. “Nick loves you desperately, and if Nick is determined to have you, as we know he is, the Duvals would be fools not to accept you.”

 

Jeff’s lower lip wobbled and he gave Blaine a watery smile. “Thank you, Blaine. You’re one of my best friends, you know that?” The words were slurred, but the meaning was clear.

 

Blaine drew Jeff into his arms for a clumsy hug and then began moving them both toward the door to get back to the booth. Sebastian would be looking for him; Blaine could almost swear he felt Sebastian’s impatience.

 

They hadn’t made it more than two steps out of the bathroom before Nick swooped in to grab Jeff by the waist. The two of them wandered off to a more private booth to try and get Jeff sobered up enough to get back to Dalton without embarrassing himself. Blaine found himself lost in reverie, watching the way these two lifelong soulmates fit together as if made for each other. He wondered, fuzzily, if there was even the slightest chance that he and Sebastian could ever come to mean that much to each other. Or even something approaching it.

 

From seemingly nowhere, a large, warm hand slipped beneath his jaw to cradle his chin, tiling his head up. Blaine startled out of his reverie and found himself looking up into a pair of green eyes; they were not Sebastian’s.

 

“Blaine? What are you doing here all alone?”

 

Blaine blinked through his slight haze of liquor. “Hunter?”

 

The Clarington family was the oldest on the Eastern seaboard, and only fifth in the entire country. Hunter was haughty and conceited and ruthlessly competitive, and Blaine had not missed how Hunter looked at him in the hallways.

 

“I didn’t realize you were here as well,” Blaine said, pulling his face out of Hunter’s grip.

 

“And I didn’t realize tonight was Warbler night at the club. Why wasn’t I invited?”

 

Blaine pressed his lips together, but did not respond. The proximity to Hunter made Blaine nervous in a new way, a way he never felt with Sebastian.

 

“Well,” Hunter said as he glanced back at the dance floor, “Since I found you, why don’t we have a dance? Just the one, huh?”

 

“I don’t know, Hunter, I don’t think Sebastian would like that very much, and I think I should get back to him. This was our evening out.”

 

Hunter took a hold of Blaine’s hand just hard enough to bring him against his chest. “Aww, come on, Blaine,” Hunter coaxed. “Just one dance. It’s not like Smythe owns you or anything.”

 

Something new in Hunter’s expression made a warning flare up in Blaine’s mind, but Hunter wasn’t waiting for Blaine to catch up. Blaine found himself led into the center of the dance floor, a path opening up around them as they moved; Blaine was strong, but he’d had a few to drink. They were quickly surrounded by the rest of the dancers and Blaine lost sense of where the booth was, and Sebastian with it.

 

Hunter’s hands moved straight onto Blaine’s body, pulling him close stroking his back with an almost appraising touch. Blaine shuddered with discomfort and tried to pull away, but the dance floor was packed, and he was pushed right back towards Hunter.

 

“Hunter,” Blaine yelled over the thumping music. “I really should be getting back to Sebastian, and my friends.”

 

“If Smythe wants you then he can come and find you,” Hunter replied indifferently. His left hand came up to caress Blaine’s cheek as his other hand slipped down the small of his back, right to his ass.

 

Shocked and offended, Blaine grabbed at Hunter’s wrists, wrenching his hands away. “Stop this at once,” he commanded, yelling to be heard over the music. Hunter was a bigger man than he, and even though Blaine was strong, the drinks had made his legs and arms clumsy.

 

“Come off it, Anderson. Everyone knows you’re just stringing Smythe along to the end of this ridiculous Interim. We all know you’re not going to say yes to him. Cut him loose. Save yourself the time and the embarrassment.”

 

Blaine lifted an eyebrow calmly, even though anger stormed through his veins. “And what? Accept a Declaration from _you_ instead?”

 

Hunter laughed and it was a cruel sound. “Why shouldn’t I have you? Sebastian has not made anything...final. And I have to say, the Smythes have been getting up my family’s nose for decades now. Teaching their first son a lesson in making a claim would settle the score entirely in our favor. And of course,” Hunter added, dark eyes boring into Blaine’s. “It means I would have you, Blaine Anderson, the jewel of Ohio society, and better, it would mean Sebastian would not.”

 

Blaine’s flushed in anger and gaped incredulously at Hunter. He knew there were men and women alike who lived merely to throw their weight around and climb the proverbial social ladder at the expense of others. But Blaine had never been confronted so directly by someone as bullish and disgusting as Hunter. Blaine curled his fingers, drawing his elbow back with the intention to punch Hunter square in the jaw when a voice rang out.

 

“CLARINGTON.”

 

Sebastian’s voice carried through everything, piercing straight through to Blaine’s heart, which leapt in response. The crowd of dancers shifted to give Sebastian room to stride quick through to Blaine. Then tension between Hunter and Sebastian grew and crackled and Blaine immediately realized that he obviously did not know everything of the history between them.

 

Sebastian’s eyes were green and narrowed, but his voice was deadly smooth. “What are you doing, Clarington? Take your hands off him.”

 

Hunter did not budge, though Sebastian hadn’t expected him to. “As far as I can see, Smythe, Blaine has not yet made a choice in the matter and is free to choose...better.”

 

Sebastian’s mouth was a thin line and his eyes flickered as he made calculations in his mind. Blaine had seen him like this before, while studying for yet another Calculus exam he was bound to ace, and before a Warbler competition. And it was the same look as when Blaine had demanded to have the Interim.

 

After a long and thickly tense silence, Sebastian spoke, clear and calm despite the thumping music. “If you agree to leave Mr. Anderson alone from now on, you may have the Praiano property. I’ll speak to mother about it this evening and have the realtor contact your parents.”

 

A muscle in Hunter’s jaw twitched. “Is that all you’re offering in exchange?”

 

Blaine’s eyes flashed dangerously at being equated to property, but Sebastian gave him a quick look so clearly asking for trust.

 

To Hunter, Sebastian gave a false self-effacing laugh. “Come on Clarington, we all know why you’re doing this. And why so publicly. Leave off and we get to have some peace between our parents for once. We needn’t carry on their childishness.”

 

Hunter narrowed his eyes as Sebastian, but shrugged. “Very well, I accept your offer. It’s become embarrassing to have our families squabbling over bones like dogs all these years.” He finally released Blaine’s wrist.

 

Almost unthinking, Blaine stepped in close to Sebastian’s side. His body was warm, fairly vibrating with anger, but the sweet tobacco scent of his cologne was a strange new comfort.

 

Hunter glared at them one last time before turning on his heel and striding away. Blaine let out a deep sigh of relief and felt Sebastian do the same.

 

“Would it be alright if we left?” Blaine asked, looking up at Sebastian. His thin face was set into a calm, diffident mask, but Blaine could still feel the tension thrumming through him.

 

“This was supposed to be our date,” Sebastian said and there was an odd note of disappointment in his voice.

 

“And it was,” Blaine reassured him, surprised by his own need to do so. “We can go get a coffee or something, just me and you.”

 

Sebastian tilted his head down and his eyes were very green. A faint smile graced his features. “Whatever you want.”

 

Driving by a sudden need, Blaine took Sebastian’s hand in his own and squeezed. “That’s what I want.”

 

Sebastian licked his lips and swallowed heavily, and for a moment Blaine was certain Sebastian would kiss him. Right then. But he didn’t. He simply interlaced their fingers more securely and allowed Blaine to lead him towards the door of the club, towards the cool, fresh air of the evening. Blaine let himself to feel disappointed for a just moment before he shook it off.


	7. The Party

_Dalton, Room 442, Blaine’s Room:_

 

A Friday evening found Blaine a bit listless in his room. A handful of the Warblers had gone off campus to shake loose some of the energy pent up from the week stuck inside of the walls of Dalton, but Blaine had begged off going with them. He didn’t feel ill or poorly, he just didn’t have the interest for a night out. He didn’t have the interest for much of anything beyond lying in bed watching a random movie on his laptop. Which is why when a knock sounded on his door he ignored it at first. But then the knock came again.

 

“Blaine, I know you’re in there.”

 

It was Sebastian. Of course it was. Blaine sighed.

 

“I’m not going out with the guys tonight,” he called out, assuming that was why Sebastian had come by. But he wasn’t interested in another night out dancing, not after the last one.

 

“I’m not here about them,” Sebastian returned. “I’m here about you.”

 

Blaine sighed again. “Come in.”

 

The door pushed up and Blaine sat up in surprise. Sebastian was dressed smartly for the evening; fitted black trousers, a deep green shirt, and a coat. He looked wonderful. He was also holding a small, unmarked shopping bag.

 

“Get dressed,” Sebastian announced, even as his eyes trailed up and down Blaine’s form. “We've a party to attend."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

“Haven’t you be paying attention to your calendar?”

 

Blaine glanced towards the wall where the calendar hung. Scribbled in Sebastian’s hand on that day’s date was the note **_Grandfather, 70th._**

 

“I thought that was meant for you?”

 

Sebastian rolled his eyes as he crossed Blaine’s room like he belonged there. “Why would I leave a note to myself on a calendar for you? It’s grandfather’s 70th birthday _fete_. Naturally, you're coming with me as my Intended."

 

"I don't want to." Blaine watched as Sebastian poked through his closet and sneered at just about everything that wasn't a Dalton blazer.

 

"Yes, well, neither do I. But we do what we must." Sebastian let the sleeve of a colorful cardigan slip through his fingers.   “I thought you might not have anything suitable for tonight, even though the event had been marked for weeks. Here.” Sebastian held out the little bag he’d brought with him.

 

“What is this?” Blaine rose from the bed.

 

“Something to wear tonight.”

 

Blaine frowned. “You must stop buying me things.”

 

Sebastian cocked his head. Blaine looked particularly charming when he was trying to be firm. “Why must I?”

 

“Because. It’s not necessary. We’ve already exchanged our gifts for the Courtship. Anything else is -- it’s not necessary. It’s too much. You don’t have anything to prove to me, you know. I’m well aware of your family’s wealth.”

 

Sebastian lifted an eyebrow. “And what if I just like to buy you things?” He asked.

 

“Then I should begin to think that in fact you’re attempting to buy _me_ ,” Blaine countered, and lifted his chin to meet Sebastian’s eyes. He could not wholly decipher what lay behind those green depths - amusement, of course, but perhaps also a hint of pride.

 

“I assure you there is no ill intent is this bag,” Sebastian finally said. “Just a sweater.”

 

Resigned, Blaine took the bag from Sebastian. Inside, wrapped in tissue, was a blue cashmere sweater. The thin material ran like water against Blaine’s palms.

 

“I--”

 

“If you say you can’t accept it I’ll rip it to pieces,” Sebastian threatened without heat. “It’s a sweater, Blaine. Not a marriage contract.” Sebastian paused and a thoughtful smile curved his lips. “Not yet.”

 

Blaine blushed despite himself. “Well, thank you.”

 

“Try it on. See that it fits. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. We’ll be fashionably late and if we’re lucky my father will be at least two Scotches in by the time we get there. Three if we’re _very_ lucky.”

 

“And what if I say no?”

 

Sebastian went very still and something like weariness passed over his features. “Must everything be a battle with you?” He asked. “Can’t you just come to this godforsaken party without thinking it the end of the world?”

 

Blaine straightened his shoulders as anger flashed in his belly. “My autonomy, shredded and paper thin as it is, is paramount to me.” He said it slowly, carefully.

 

Sebastian inhaled sharply through his nose. “I’m aware of that.”

 

“Are you?” Blaine looked deeply into Sebastian’s eyes. If nothing else ever transpired between them he needed to know that this man understood that about him. But so often Sebastian was unreadable, his true feelings shuttered behind the mask of the person he’d made of himself.

 

“Blaine,” Sebastian finally began. “Would you do me the great honor of accompanying me to my grandfather’s birthday celebration?”

 

Blaine resisted the urge to smile. “I would.”

 

Sebastian exhaled. “I’ll be waiting out by my car. Come down when you’re ready.”

 

***

_The Smythe Estate, Westerville, Ohio_

 

“I can’t go in there like this,” Blaine said.

 

Sebastian glanced at him. “Why ever not?”

 

“It’s --” Blaine glanced down at himself. “It’s indecent.” The sweater Sebastian had bought him was so thin as to be practically see-through.

 

Sebastian scoffed. “Nonsense, you look amazing. All that fencing is finally paying off.” His expression turned into a sly leer and Blaine blushed instinctively.

 

“You always have to make things so, so sordid.”

 

“And you always have to pretend like I’ve _shocked_ your delicate sensibilities. Come on, the sooner we get in there the sooner we can leave.”

 

Seen through the windshield of Sebastian’s car, the Smythe Estate was as grand and imposing as it had been during Blaine’s previous visits. The main building towered three stories of pale stone and tall windows, with a grand, pillared entry away and two wings that extended out across the property. It did not look like the kind of place a young boy might grow up happily among the stone and mortar and long hallways.

 

Blaine wanted to stop Sebastian from getting out of the car, wanted to ask him about his family before they become surrounded by them. He knew Sebastian disliked, perhaps even feared, his father. Mr. Smythe was a cold man, calculating and rigid, but Blaine knew little else. Sebastian’s mother had said nearly nothing during the Declaration, had barely even looked at Blaine, and he had no siblings. Sebastian never spoke much about the rest of his family; he never spoke much about himself at all.

 

Blaine was struck by the deep desire to drive them away from this place, to go somewhere small and private with Sebastian and ask him all the things he seemed to be keeping hidden. Moments like these - seeing Sebastian gaze at his family home like it was something to be wary of - made Blaine wonder what kind of man Sebastian really was. Beneath the sneer, beneath the bravado, beneath his carefully crafted cavalier attitude.

 

But Sebastian was out of the car and opening the door for him before Blaine could say anything.

 

“Come, Mr. Anderson,” Sebastian said, taking his arm. “We are eagerly awaited, I’m sure.”

 

***

 

Inside, past the butler who took their coats and welcomed Sebastian home, there were more people than Blaine expected milling about the various rooms and corridors. Blaine had anticipated a smaller, more intimate affair of immediate family.

 

Self-conscious without his coat to shield, Blaine smoothed the thin fabric of his sweater with nervous hands.

 

“Stop it,” Sebastian chided. “You look divine.” His hand settled heavily in the small of Blaine’s back and Blaine shivered at the heat of his touch.

 

“I’m nervous,” Blaine admitted as they walked deeper into the house, towards the center of the gathering.

 

Sebastian made a small noise in the back of his throat but did not disagree.

 

Sebastian introduced Blaine to more people than he could possibly imagine remembering, and he was of a mind to think that most of these people wouldn’t care to remember him either were he not, at that moment, Sebastian’s Intended. The Smythe family was old and proud and eager to keep their money closest to them; bringing a new family into the fold - especially one like the Andersons, who were known to give their wealth away - likely ruffled more than a few old feathers. Blaine did not care, he was well bred and well trained enough to counter the occasional turned up nose with a perfectly polite smile. Regardless, his future was not completely decided. He had some weeks yet to decide if he was in fact going to accept Sebastian’s proposal, or if he would reject him.

 

Blaine’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. The choice was suddenly not as clear cut as it once was, and that too made him nervous. There was a life here, with the Smythes, with Sebastian. Perhaps it was not the one Blaine had imagined for himself as a young boy, but it was one nonetheless, and a privileged one at that. Suddenly Blaine wanted to speak to his brother, fiercely, and made a note to call him as soon as he could.

 

Blaine was pulled from his thoughts when Sebastian closed his hand around Blaine’s elbow and turned him slightly.

 

“Darling,” Sebastian whispered, drawing his attention to an older man standing before them.

 

He was tall and broad, rangey for his age, with thick steel grey hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He wore an impeccable black suit with a silk-weave shirt, tie, and pocket square. His eyes were a bright, piercing green, full of knowledge.

 

“Blaine, this is my grandfather, Sir Aodhan Smythe.”

 

Blaine extended his hand to the older man. “Pleasure to make your esteemed acquaintance, Sir.”

 

“Well, aren’t you a fine young thing,” he purred, taking Blaine’s hand for just a moment too long. “Trust my grandson here to go for the most expensive colt in the race.”

 

Blaine flushed a bright red. “Sir --”

 

“Come entertain an old man for a spell.” Sir Aodhan took Blaine’s arm and skillfully tugged him away from Sebastian and to his own side.

 

“Grandfather,” Sebastian said. His tone was low and dry, a warning, his eyes narrowed.

 

“Easy now, lad, your beloved will still have his...dignity intact when I return him to you.” Sir Aodhan winked even as Sebastian’s cheeks burned pink.

 

As they began to walk away, Blaine craned his head to catch a last glimpse of Sebastian before the crowd filled the gap and cut him off from sight.

 

“So, Blaine. You’re the Andersons’ younger son.”

 

“Yes, sir. Cooper is my older brother.”

 

“Just eighteen, then.”

 

“Uhm, no, sir. Seventeen.”

 

Sir Aodhan laughed, shaking his head. “Well, we Smythes do like our betrothed young. My grandson is apparently no different.”

 

“I, we -- that is…” Blaine swallowed dryly. “We are not yet exactly betrothed.”

 

Sir Aodhan looked at him with a raised eyebrow as they slipped into a quieter room of the house. There was a beautiful piano set up in the corner and bookshelves lined the walls. “I’m aware that you’ve invoked the Interim,” he said. “Quite the scandal you’ve caused.”

 

Blaine’s stomach tightened. “There is no scandal.”

 

“To reject a Smythe’s Declaration? That takes a particular sort of person.”

 

“I’ve not rejected him. I just--”

 

Sir Aodhan turned to face Blaine directly. “My young grandson must prize you greatly to allow this slight against the family. And yet, despite his graciousness, you do not belong to him. No, don’t protest. His insecurity over your...affections shows in the way he keeps his hand on your ass like he’s hiding treasure in there. Which I suppose he is, since you won’t seem to let him near it yet otherwise. Tell me, Blaine,” Sir Aodhan stepped closer, his voice smooth like leather and whiskey. “Has some other rogue at Dalton plundered you before our Sebastian could get to you?”

 

Blaine flushed down to his toes, deeply offended at the straightforward and frankly rude question. But he stood a little straighter and squared his shoulders. “I assure you, Sir, that I would never dishonor my current contract with your grandson by so much as _looking_ at another man in that way. Just because Sebastian does not...have all of my affections does not mean they lie with someone else.”

 

Sir Aodhan smirked, but there was a certain kind of pride around his eyes, as though Blaine had answered the question correctly. “I know that, lad, just wanted to hear you say it. And even if I didn’t that neckline shows the delightfully offended blush going right down into your trousers.”

 

Blaine spluttered and wished desperately for a drink, or an escape. He didn’t think there was anyone else who would throw him off his guard so.

 

“Look, lad. Let me give you some advice I wish someone had given my late wife when I Declared for her.” Sir Aodhan rubbed his fingertips against the grain of his beard. “We Smythe men may be too proud and too intelligent to trust almost anyone, and we’re certainly too wealthy and handsome to not get what we want. Even the _people_ we want.” He looked Blaine up and down in a way that reminded Blaine of Sebastian.

 

“But listen,” Sir Aodhan’s gaze grew serious. “If you give us your love, your honor, and your fidelity, we will be faithful to you as the sun and protect you for as long as we live. And of course, you should know that our virility lasts well into old age, should you ever unclench enough to enjoy it.” Sir Aodhan laughed silkily, but Blaine pressed his lips together as the older man’s words sank in.

 

In the weeks since Sebastian’s declaration, Blaine had not paid much thought to how this might be affecting him. Pride was everything for the old, wealthy families of Westerville and beyond, pride and keeping up appearances. His refusal to immediately accept Sebastian’s proposal cast a shadow, however slight, on the Smythe family name. Surely there were whispers among the other families, bitter innuendo and rumors that the Smythes would not be happy about.

 

But the Smythes were not Blaine’s biggest concern right then; his life, his future - those were the things he cared about first.

 

Suddenly a hand slid possessively across his back, startling him, even as he recognized the touch.

 

“Darling,” Sebastian greeted smoothly, smiling down at Blaine with surprising warmth. “Forgive me for leaving you for so long. Mother’s friends cornered me asking about you. I’ve just now pulled away from them. And Grandfather, I thought you said you were stealing Blaine to be entertained? I can see that you’re smiling, but my Blaine here looks downright solemn.” Sebastian’s hand moved up Blaine’s arm and over his shoulder, fingertips grazing the naked skin of his collarbone. Blaine shivered.

 

Sir Aodhan watched the movements with a keen eye. “Just giving your young Blaine a few tips on living with a Smythe,” he said. “Listing a few of our finest, and not so fine, qualities.” He chuckled at Sebastian’s suddenly look of alarm.

 

Not wanting to become the focal point of a potential mortifying battle of innuendo, Blaine took Sebastian’s hands in his own. He wasn’t sure if he meant it as an affection, or just to keep Sebastian’s hands from roving all over him in full view of the party, but Blaine grew warm at the press of their palms and nevertheless.

 

“Sebastian, you know how I don’t care for parties like this, but I was wondering if your grandfather might like to hear me sing?” Blaine asked, keeping his voice low and a little demure. He didn’t know where the idea to take a seat at the piano in the corner had come from, but music had always been a comfort to him.

 

Sebastian looked down at Blaine and searched his face. Blaine’s eyes were huge and shades of green in the warm light of the room. The unexpected and offered touch of his hands had Sebastian a little off kilter. For so long Blaine had been so reticent to touch him, to be near him, and now, standing close together in his family home with his grandfather looking on, Blaine was offering at least his hand. He wasn’t sure if there was something more behind the gesture, but much of him didn’t care.

 

“Yes, of course,” Sebastian replied and squeezed Blaine’s fingers in his own. “Grandfather, just wait until you hear Blaine’s voice and the way he plays the piano. All the boys at Dalton are jealous of him--”

 

“Or jealous of _you_ , I bet!” Sebastian’s mother trilled as she swept into the music room carrying a fresh Scotch on the rocks for Sir Aodhan. She was a beautiful woman, and suddenly more animated than Blaine had seen her before. The new expression brightened her countenance, bringing a loveliness that wasn’t there before. “Blaine, child. Please do play a number on this dusty old thing. Hasn’t been opened since we tried to get Sebastian to learn when he was just a boy.”

 

Mrs. Smythe glided over to Blaine and took his elbow to skilfully draw him away from Sebastian. Sebastian narrowed his eyes at his mother and flexed his hand, suddenly bereft of Blaine’s touch, but the nervous glance Blaine threw him over his shoulder warmed Sebastian’s belly.

 

“I hope it’s still in tune,” Mrs. Smythe said as she bustled Blaine over to the piano.

 

Blaine gingerly lifted the glossy black lid and tested out a few chords. It was perfectly in tune and Blaine rather suspected that Mrs. Smythe wasn’t telling the entire truth, not that he minded. The cool touch of the keys quickly calmed him.

 

He tried to ignore the other party guests, who had gathered in the music room, crowding around the piano. Blaine could just see Sebastian sitting with Sir Aodhan on the sofa, and something settled in his chest when Sebastian nodded at him.

 

Blaine stretched his fingers and tested out a few opening notes of a couple different songs before he settled on something a little old-fashioned, and dare he think it, a little romantic. Romance was not a part of this whole affair, of that he was deeply aware, but his hands still knew the song well.

 

“I'm mad about the boy,” Blaine sang, “And I know it's stupid to be mad about the boy.” His voice came smooth and lush and deep, pulling the words from someplace inside himself he hadn’t thought much about, hadn’t had much use for before.

 

Sebastian watched Blaine play the old familiar song, his breath a hard knot in his chest. He was beautiful, achingly so. Sebastian knew that he was, had always known, but his desire for Blaine had always been first in his mind. In that moment, however, squashed on an uncomfortable couch and surrounded by family he didn’t like, Sebastian was struck by the first, simple beauty of Blaine, and filled with an unaccountable need to make him as happy as playing the piano did.

 

“Will it ever cloy,” Blaine crooned. “This odd diversity of misery and joy.” As though he could feel the weight of Sebastian’s gaze on him, Blaine opened his eyes and glanced across the room. Pride and something like adoration blazed on Sebastian’s thin face and Blaine flushed. Ridiculous as it was, it looked something like love. “I'm feeling quite insane and young again, and all because I'm mad about the boy.”

 

When the song ended, Sebastian got up from the sofa and walked over to where Blaine was accepting his well deserved applause modestly.

 

“You were perfect,” Sebastian whispered, just loud enough so that Blaine would hear. Almost unthinking, he lifted Blaine’s chin up, tilting his head back. The desire to kiss him was so powerful Sebastian almost forgot himself, almost bent down and kissed that sweet mouth as eagerly as he wanted.

 

But he saw, more than heard, Blaine’s quiet gasp, the hitch in his chest as he anticipated a kiss. Sebastian wanted it, wanted those parted lips and Blaine’s soft tongue. Blaine’s skin was hot beneath Sebastian’s fingers, a flush spreading all the way down to his chest.

 

But Sebastian couldn’t. Not there. Not in front of all of those people. Not before they’d discussed the limits of the courtship more fully. Whatever Sebastian was, he was not an uncontrollable animal, and he would not have Blaine think of him as such.

 

Instead, Sebastian slowly bent down and gently brushed his lips across the smooth skin of Blaine’s cheek. Blaine exhaled shakily, but did not pull away.

 

As he straightened back up, Sebastian caught the eye of his grandfather, who nodded once at him, a faint smile on his lips.

 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Sebastian told Blaine, and let his thumb caress Blaine’s chin with great affection. Blaine blinked slowly at him and opened his mouth as though to respond, but he simply nodded.

 

Sebastian slipped out of the music room as the first chords of a new song started up. He felt overly warm and too thirsty and needed for something other than more liquor.   The kitchen was surprisingly empty, though he suspected that was only because most of the party was crammed into the music room listening to Blaine play another standard.

 

Sebastian felt himself smiling at the thought of Blaine. For the first time since he made his Declaration he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He wanted Blaine, perhaps more than ever, but he did not know how to get him. They were different kind of men, he and Blaine, and Blaine was certainly unlike most of the boys Sebastian had dealt with before.

 

Sebastian poured himself a glass of water and stared out of the window into the darkness for a long while, unsure of what he needed to do next.

 

When he finally made his way out of the kitchen, a strong arm pulled him around the oak staircase and into a private, dim room, empty of all other souls.

 

Sebastian was not surprised to see his father standing before him and he glared into his father’s flinty grey eyes.

 

“Yes, sir? Can I help you with something?”

 

“Are you having a...fun evening, Sebastian?” Mr. Smythe asked. His words were kind, but his tone was deadly sharp.

 

“I’m having an exquisite evening, father. You’ve really outdone yourself for grandfather’s _fete_. The champagne alone must have cost a squire’s weight in gold, to say nothing of the caviar.”

 

Mr. Smythe did not smile. “I’m so glad to see you in a mood for such jokes, as you seem to be happily making a mockery of this family.”

 

Sebastian felt slapped. “I’m sorry?”

 

"What on Earth is the matter with you, Sebastian?" Mr. Smythe demanded and his hand made a sharp cutting motion.

 

"Nothing, sir." Sebastian clasped his hands behind his back. He had no idea what his father was angry with him about, but the tone made him feel like a small, recalescent child.

 

"It's been more than a month since your Declaration and you still have not finalized the Contract with the Anderson boy."

 

Cold iron lodged in Sebastian’s chest. He was firmly aware of the passing weeks and Blaine’s lack of decision. “I’m aware of the date, father. Blaine and I are...negotiating things.”

 

“Negotiating?” Mr. Smythe scoffed. “We’ve already negotiated the terms of the Contract and they are excellent terms. More than fair. Perhaps more than he deserves. All you need to do is get the damn fool boy to sign it so we can put the embarrassment of his...hesitance behind us.”

 

“It’s not that simple,” Sebastian protested. He wished it was.

 

“Why don’t you just bed the boy and be done with it?” Mr. Smythe sneered; his handsome face twisted into an ugly, mean expression.

 

Horrified shock lanced through Sebastian’s core. "Father!" He exclaimed, scandalized. “You know that is--”

 

"Here." Mr. Smythe reached into his pocket and withdrew a small, glass vial.

 

"What is this?" Sebastian asked, taking the vial with hesitation. The surface was cool to the touch.

 

"A little help,” Mr. Smythe responded blithely. “Since you don't seem to be man enough to get the job done yourself."

 

Bile rose fast in Sebastian’s throat. He knew - rare though it was and completely disgraceful - that it was something that had happened. It was completely illegal, of course, but nearly impossible to prove. And once the Contract was consummated there was little more to be done about it. Sebastian wanted to vomit. This is what his father thought of Blaine.

 

“Father, no--”

 

Mr. Smythe interrupted him with a sharp tone, “I’ll not stand for you to cast shame on this family because you couldn’t handle a simple marriage proposal. If he rejects you, do you have any idea what that would do to our name? Our reputation and standing? Can you even comprehend how it will look? The Claringtons would see to it that we never recovered from this embarrassment. No one has ever rejected a Smythe and I’ll be damned if you’re the first. Take care of it.”

 

Mr. Smythe turned on his heel and strode down the long hallway, leaving Sebastian alone in the dim and quiet room.

 

He swayed unsteadily on his feet, rocked by the revelation of the true nature of his father and what he thought Sebastian was capable of. He would never pretend to be a saintly man, but Sebastian was no criminal, and he knew in his soul that he could never hurt Blaine, or anyone else, like that.

 

Sebastian stared at the little vial in his palm for too long before he closed his fist around it. As much as he wanted to throw the vial at his father’s feet, he could not. Instead, he turned and strode down the hallways towards a far off door that opened out onto a balcony. In one swift movement he pulled open the doors and hurled the vial out over the courtyard. The bright shattering of glass against stonework made him shudder. Sebastian rested his hands on the cold stone of the balcony and hung his head, breathing in the crisp night air and breathing out the ache of disappointment and fear. Whatever happened next between him and Blaine, Sebastian knew the hours he’d spend with his father would be limited for the rest of his life.

 

In the hallway, tucked away in the shadows, Blaine sagged heavily against the wall. He felt nauseated, weak in the knees with the revelation. Mr. Smythe wanted Sebastian to drug him, so that he would –

 

Blaine shook his head and took a slow, calming breath. It didn’t matter. What Mr. Smythe had wanted didn’t matter. What mattered was that Sebastian had been as horrified as Blaine when he’d heard Mr. Smythe’s solution to Blaine’s reticence. Blaine had slipped away from the music room when he’d noticed how long Sebastian had been gone, and he’d be forever grateful that he had. Whatever kind of man Sebastian was - and that was something Blaine was still trying to figure out completely - he was a more honorable man than he let on. Whatever they became to each other in the next weeks and beyond, Sebastian was the kind of man who put Blaine before his family.

 

And that meant more than anything else to him.


	8. A Fresh Start

_Dalton, Room 442, Blaine’s Room_

 

Blaine spent the next day holed up in his room, finishing a couple assignments for the next week and generally moping. He couldn’t stop thinking about the previous night, about what Sebastian’s grandfather had said to him regarding loyalty and family, and what Sebastian had done for him in the face of his father’s horrible, frightening suggestion.

 

A part of Blaine still wanted to be able to think of Sebastian as he had when they’d first met; to think of him as that conceited, arrogant, lewd boy who only wanted him for the conquest of it. But he couldn’t. Not now. He had seen new parts of Sebastian, small glimpses that no one else had. Blaine had seen the kindness and the goodness in him, the things he tried to conceal behind his suggestive comments and eager hands. Those things were still there, the way Sebastian’s hands sought out the exposed skin of Blaine’s wrists, the dark heat in his eyes when he looked at Blaine, but there were new things too. The perfect cups of coffee Sebastian brought him at breakfast, the unconscious care in his touch when he took Blaine’s elbow in the hallways between classes, the unnameable expression on his thin face when Blaine caught Sebastian staring at him. Those were things that Blaine could not forget or ignore.

 

The calendar Sebastian had given him the first day of their Contract still hung on the wall, blatantly counting down the days until he had to make a final decision. What that decision should be kept him up at night and colored his dreams.

 

Blaine grabbed his phone off his desk and dialed a number he probably should have called weeks ago.

 

Cooper answered on the second ring. “Hey! B! How are you?” His brother’s familiar, exuberant voice filled Blaine with warmth.

 

“I’m fine,” Blaine responded, but he couldn’t keep the notes of stress and worry from his voice.

 

“All right,” Cooper sighed. “What’s the matter?”

 

Though his brother had gotten married and moved away, he still knew Blaine too well. “Nothing.”

 

“Bullshit. Don’t lie to me. Talk to me. Don’t make me get on a plane and fly all the way back to Ohio. I can tell something’s up; you don’t just call me for no reason. You’ve been locked away at that school without me for years now, but I still know when something’s wrong.”

 

Blaine rubbed his hands against his thighs, struggling not to pick nervously at the seam of his pants. They were new, and expensive; a gift from Sebastian, and he didn’t want to ruin them. “Are you...happy?” Blaine asked carefully.

 

“What?”

 

“Are you happy?” Blaine asked again. “With - with your marriage.” Blaine blushed to even say the word, unable to stop thinking about own impending future knowing that it may very well include Sebastian.

 

“Ah. That’s what this is about.” Cooper’s voice was soothing and knowing. “Yes, Blaine. I am happy. I’m not going to lie to you and say that it’s been completely smooth sailing all these years, but I made a good choice with my Intended - the right choice, for me anyway. And luckily I’m the right choice for her.   For us, everything’s working out as it should. I’m happy and so is she.”

 

“But you loved her before you got engaged,” Blaine pointed out. It hadn’t seemed so important at the time, how his brother and his wife dated and fell in love without the constraints of a Contract or a clock ticking. But now it meant everything.

 

“I did,” Cooper agreed.

 

“And she loved you too.”

 

“She did, she does. But, you know, it doesn’t always work like that. Love is, well, it’s an added bonus for people like us. For second sons especially, love isn’t necessarily going to be part of the equation. You know how the world works.”

 

Blaine swallowed dryly. “Yeah. That’s basically what mom and dad said when this whole thing got started.”

 

“Look, Blaine, this life is...unfair and this society is hard. The rules. The requirements. All these things we don’t get to choose. We don’t get to live like other people - the people who get to live freely and love freely, without obligation or constraint. Sometimes it works out, like for me, and like for mom and dad. Maybe we Anderson men just know our hearts well. But yeah, sometimes it sucks. Especially for people like you.”

 

“Gee, thanks.” Blaine wrinkled his nose even though Cooper couldn’t see him.

 

“I’m being serious here,” Cooper said. “Being a second son is kind of shoddy deal. All the choices I have, all the power, the rights, the freedom - you get none of that. And instead, well, instead you get offered up like a lamb to the wolves. Where I get to choose who I’m going to spend my life with, you have to sit around waiting for someone to snatch you up, unless luck and age turn in your favor. You might not even know the person. Or you might hate them.” There was a pause and Blaine knew Cooper was picturing Sebastian. “And for the most part, there’s nothing you can do about it. You were born into this role, as I was born into mine.”

 

“I don’t hate him,” Blaine whispered.

 

“I know.”

 

“You do?”

 

“You wouldn’t be this conflicted if you did.”

 

Blaine shivered and his belly felt tight at the thought of Sebastian. “You sound like you kind of approve of him.”

 

“I guess I do.”

 

“But the first time you met him...”

 

Cooper had met Sebastian once at some gala event, even before Blaine, and had come back with nothing good to say at all the boy. “He was an arrogant, self-involved, rude little shit who only wanted to claim you as a prize. Just like so many of the others.”

 

“And he’s so different now?” Blaine asked, even though he thought he knew the answer already.

 

“Blaine, you know he is. I might not be there to help you with this in person, but gossip travels, even all the way to New York. Anyone and everyone can see how he looks at you these days. I’m not saying the guy knows how to love, but if he did, if he could learn, it’d be for you.”

 

Blaine felt like someone reached into his chest and squeezed his heart. Love wasn’t something he’d allowed himself to think about since the Declaration had been made and it had been Sebastian asking for his hand.

 

“Hey,” Cooper said, breaking into Blaine’s silence. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re doing okay. Look how far you’ve come in these couple of months. Think of where you’ll be in a year. Two years. Five. Twenty.”

 

“I--” Blaine’s head swam at the thought of decades with Sebastian, but it wasn’t unpleasant, not really, just overwhelming.

 

“Can you imagine twenty years with Sebastian?” Cooper asked.   “Because you can still say no. There’s time left in the Interim. It won’t...look good for either of our families. Actually,” Cooper mused thoughtfully. “You’ll probably destroy his.”

 

Blaine’s eyebrows rose. “What?”

 

“Someone like you, from a family as high ranking as ours, rejecting a Smythe Proposal?” Cooper clucked his tongue. “Especially after putting him through the Interim. It won’t look good at all. He may have a hard time finding another possible Intended. As would you. You’d have the harder time, naturally.”

 

Blaine knew all this, he did, but coming from his brother it settled like lead between his shoulderblades. “Oh.”

 

“But god, Blaine, don’t let that...guilt you into accepting him. I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to make this more difficult.”

 

“It’s as difficult as it was always going to be. I just -- I always kind of thought it wouldn’t happen to me, you know? That somehow I’d escape school without anyone actually making a Declaration for him, especially after those first creeps.”

 

“Blaine…”

 

“Yes, I know our family is rich,” Blaine interrupted, knowing that Cooper was about to remind him of that unforgettable fact.

 

“It’s not just that. You know you’re sought after. If it was just about pooling wealth Sebastian would have gone after the Claringtons or some other European family with more cash than sense.”

 

Blaine rolled his eyes, shrugging it off. “Yeah, well, he didn’t.”

 

“No,” Cooper agreed. “He didn’t.”

 

Blaine rubbed his hand through his messy hair. “I think I can, though,” he said softly, and the truth of it settled warm in his chest. “Imagine those years with him. It doesn’t...it’s not the worst thing I can imagine. And there are more dangerous options out there.” Blaine shuddered to remember Hunter’s strong, unyielding hands on him.

 

“Yes, there are,” Cooper agreed.

 

“So…” Blaine trailed off and flopped back on his bed.

 

“So do you know what you’re going to do?”

 

Blaine laughed thinly. “No idea.”

 

***

 

_Dalton, Room 442, Blaine’s Room_

 

The next Saturday Sebastian arrived at Blaine’s room early in the morning in what he considered a magnanimous effort at courtship, instead of sleeping in until noon as he usually did. But the week had been tense between them, and Sebastian was in a mood to try, in his own way, to mend the fractures between them. The incident with his father at the party had left him shaken to the core, equals parts disgusted and shamed by his father’s actions, and eager to protect Blaine from that fate at all costs.

 

Sebastian knocked on Blaine’s door and then pushed into the room as though he belonged there. Often he felt like he did for all the time he spent there, picking Blaine up for various outings or simply sat at his desk doing their homework. Inside, he found Blaine already dressed smartly, but comfortably, and fixing his hair.

 

“What are you doing up already?” Sebastian teased. “Here I’d hoped waking up at the ungodly hour of 7am on a weekend would guarantee me a glimpse of my Intended _en deshabille_.”

 

Blaine rolled his eyes and pushed a few curls back into place. Sebastian would never tell him, but he rather prefered Blaine’s natural riot of curls, which he’d only had the pleasure of seeing a spare few times over the year.

 

“I’ve been up for an hour, lazy sod,” Blaine chided, smiling gently at him. He was disgustingly chipper despite the hour, and in opposition to his countenance earlier in the week. He’d been quiet, Sebastian had noticed, somewhat withdrawn and deeply contemplative. Sebastian had caught Blaine gazing at him, searching for something in his face Sebastian couldn’t begin to guess at. It threw Sebastian off kilter, however, not knowing what Blaine was thinking, only that he was working through something. Something disarmingly important.

 

Blaine grabbed a flyer from his desk and thrust it playfully into Sebastian’s chest on his way to pick up his shoes.

 

Realizing how often he had noticed various postcards and leaflets on Blaine’s desk, but never looked at them, Sebastian made a mental note to study them later, beginning with the one in his hand.

 

“ _Soup kitchen_?” Sebastian exclaimed in horror. “A _gay_ soup kitchen?! Good lord Blaine, are you trying to actually grow wings to go with your glittering halo?”

 

The slight shadow that passed across Blaine’s expression told Sebastian he had better take a more sensitive approach to this charitable activity.

 

“I mean,” Sebastian began again. “When did you start doing this? I didn’t even know Westerville had soup kitchens let alone ones specifically set up for the _LGBTQ+ homeless and destitute._ ”

 

Blaine’s expression softened instantly and he smiled up at Sebastian as he slipped on his shoes.

 

“I’ve been helping out at shelters since I was a boy,” Blaine told him. “Unlike many wealthy families in this area, the Andersons uphold the old traditions of using our status to help the poor and disadvantaged.” Finishing his laces, he stood to take the flyer back from Sebastian. “For a while I just handed out presents during the holidays with my brother, but when I came out I decided to do work specifically for this….place...Sebastian, give it back!”

 

Using the height advantage, Sebastian held the flyer just out of Blaine’s reach. Grabbing for the paper pressed Blaine close to him, his smaller body fitting into the planes and angles of Sebastian’s. The friction sizzled up his spine and Sebastian could smell the surprisingly earthy scent of Blaine’s cologne. He wanted to bury his face in Blaine’s throat and inhale.

 

Something warm and alien crept up from Sebastian’s stomach into his brain and spoke for him: “I want to come with you.”

 

Blaine suddenly stopped reaching for the flyer to look skeptically into Sebastian’s unnervingly earnest face.

 

“You...you want to come where?” He asked, his dark eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “To the shelter? To help me cook breakfast? For homeless people? This early in the morning.”

 

Sebastian nodded to each query. He had not come to Blaine’s room with any intention other than seeing him, but now the idea of spending the day doing something dear to Blaine’s heart made his pulse race with a new urgency. He wanted to do this.

 

“Sebastian, come on,” Blaine scoffed. “It’s hours of unpaid work on a Saturday morning. Cooking eggs and toast and sausages, serving and talking to people who aren’t in the upper echelons of society, and then washing and cleaning up. With your hands. It’s really not for you.”

 

Sebastian ignored the truthful digs at his character and breezed past Blaine to grab a maroon cardigan that was draped on the bed. “Don’t you think this will be a bit thin for today’s weather, darling?” He asked innocently, holding the garment up.

 

Blaine sighed and didn’t push the matter. “We’re only going from the car into the building,” he answered. “It’ll be fine.” He turned around automatically to let Sebastian slip the cardigan over his arms.

 

Sebastian took the opportunity of the closeness to press a fleeting kiss to Blaine’s smooth cheek and he delighted in the way Blaine shivered against him.

 

“Remember Sebastian,” Blaine said, pulling away from him, and his voice was decidedly shaky “This was your choice and you can’t back out if you decide halfway through that you don’t like it.”

 

Sebastian rolled his eyes and followed Baine out of the door. It struck him suddenly, what the rare, warm feeling in his stomach must be. He was willingly going as far as possible outside his comfort zone all so that he could stay close to that warm glow of goodness inside Blaine that seemed to light everywhere the boy went.

 

For the first time in his life, Sebastian Smythe wanted to be a good man, and Blaine was his only chance at salvation.

 

***

 

_Westerville Service Center_

 

Watching Blaine flit easily between tasks at the shelter was a revelation for Sebastian. He saw his Intended fully in his element: delegating to the other volunteers, coaxing the old kitchen equipment into producing surprisingly good food, but especially in his empathetic and respectful treatment of the people coming in from the cold for rest and a hot meal.

 

Blaine was the picture of everything the rich were _supposed_ to be in their society: using his energies and kindness towards helping the more unfortunate, ladling portions into bowls, and placing his family’s old clothes on their backs instead of merely throwing them away. Giving what he had to give to those who needed it.

 

“Look sharp, Smythe!” Blaine called out cheerfully. “That gravy isn’t going to serve itself!”

 

Sebastian jerked out of his reverie and ended up slopping a bit of gravy onto his crisp oxford shirt. Blaine laughed and came over with a wet cloth to dab at the stain.

 

“This is why we wear aprons, mister,” Blaine teased at Sebastian’s grimace. “Oh come here, you big snob.”

 

Before Sebastian could protest, Blaine reached up and slung an old, green apron over his head. The same one Sebastian had refused to put on when they’d arrived at the soup kitchen.

 

“You’ll thank me by the end of the shift, trust me,” Blaine noted. “And would you look at that. It even matches your eyes.” He was teasing, and Sebastian found it enchanting to see him so happy and open.

 

“Tell me this,” Sebastian murmured lowly since Blaine was so pressed close to him as he tied the apron strings. “Would you possibly be more inclined to sign that Contract if I slummed it a bit more doing things like this with you?”

 

Blaine was a bit flushed when he pulled away, giving the strings a little extra tug, lips pursed slightly. “For one thing, we don’t say ‘slum,’ especially around here. And for another, I don’t want a version of you that only makes shallow concessions to the things that are important to me. I want someone who understands why those things are important. Who doesn’t need to have it explained to him in the first place.”

 

A touch of guilt hit Sebastian and he took one of Blaine’s hands in his own. “Oh, I see importance in everything you do, Blaine,” he said, and surprised even himself with the sincerity of it. “Don’t ever underestimate the high value I see in anything you find passion or pleasure in. I may look at most of the people here as anywhere between false piety and lost cause, but if they’re worthy of your attention then I’m smart enough to know they must be worth mine.”

 

Sebastian was gifted with a soft, if slightly uncertain look of affection and judged it best to capitalize on the moment by not forcing it further. “So, now if you can just convince me why breakfasts at this joint involves gravy, I should probably get back to serving it.”

 

***

 

Toward the end of breakfast, the kitchen wound down into a gentle bustle of activity. Many of the patrons were heading back out to take advantage of the daylight hours and the dry, if cloudy skies. Blaine decided he too could do with a quick break.

 

Truth be told, he was in need of the fresh, crisp air himself; not just because of the warm, stuffy kitchen, but mostly because Sebastian had turned out to be such a puzzle of his usual, frustrating self.

 

A long suppressed notion of just how far beyond a stupid crush or sexual obsession Sebastian’s Declaration really was struck Blaine with a heavy certainty. No first born son from a family of the Smythe’s status would throw away a commitment of such dire responsibility as marriage on a mere conquest. Perhaps it had started out that way for him, but something had changed. Blaine was coming to understand that plenty of boys and men over the years had harboured thinly repressed passion for him. There had even been a suitor visiting from abroad, well into his fifties and in possession of almost an entire nation’s wealth, whose fever for the Anderson’s younger son led to a wild proposal of declaring an Intention _ad Prorsum._

 

It was only years later that Blaine would learn of the swashbuckling Vicomte nearly driven mad over the refusal of his parents and the local priest to promise him a Blaine who was young enough to be a grandson. Blaine’s eternal hopeless romantic spirit felt saddened at first at the thought of this heartsick old steppenwolf howling all over some slavic landscape for his lost boy-love. The dream was somewhat flattened by Cooper’s aping of the more accurate lewd gestures and liquor-soaked eyeballs trailing Blaine’s form as he walked back and forth to school.

 

Blaine shook his head, shivering involuntarily with disgust at the memories, now shaped darker by time and perspective. No, Sebastian surely was not compelled to plead for Blaine’s hand from sexual desire alone. His words, and even his actions of late, spoke of something more, something deeper, even if he himself was not completely aware of it. Though what Sebastian Smythe was capable of truly feeling inside that lean, angular body remained a mystery.

 

“I’d say penny for your thoughts,” Sebastian’s voice interrupted. “But judging by the angle of your eyebrows that’s probably far too cheap.”

 

Sebastian settled down on the concrete step next to Blaine, and Blaine did not mind at how he pressed their thighs and shoulders together as he did so.

 

“I also brought you my jacket to prove that I was right about you getting cold and that you should really just listen to what I say.”

 

Blaine dropped his head with a bashful chuckle as he felt the jacket settle on his shoulders, just a little too big and hanging around him pleasantly. He surreptitiously breathed in the tobacco and amber scent of cologne lingering at the collar, a scent he’d come to associate fondly with Sebastian.

 

“Thank you, even if the thanks was fished for,” Blaine replied gently, pulling the jacket more tightly around himself. Sebastian was warm against him and oddly comforting against his swirling thoughts. “And I was just thinking of this old drunk rich guy who tried to Declare for me when I was still taking pre-Algebra and could sing the female parts in choir.”

 

Sebastian cocked his head in mock contemplation. “I mean...pretty, super smart, and a great vocal range...can’t say I blame the guy for wanting to put that on statutory layaway.”

 

Blaine rolled his eyes and snorted incredulously. “Oh my god, you are just so…” Blaine shoved at Sebastian’s shoulder with his own. An unusually warm and comfortable silence settled between them as they sat, their breath showing in the cold air between the shelter and the thick woods behind the parking lot.

 

Blaine’s gaze drifted down to Sebastian’s brogues; slim, elegant and expensive just like their owner.

 

“But what else do you see in me, Sebastian? To go through all of this.” He asked, almost too whisper-soft to be heard.

 

Blaine could feel the vivid green eyes on him even before he looked up into Sebastian’s suddenly stormy face.

 

“Well, I know you see _me_ as arrogant and selfish and thinking more highly of myself than anyone else,” Sebastian began, looking levelly into Blaine’s eyes. “Imagine then what I must think of you to choose you as my Intention on the evening of my eighteenth birthday. You and I both know how many other boys at Dalton have been counting the days until they came of age to Declare for you. Who knows how many boys in your own extended family and acquaintance were planning on it. I saw my lucky chance at being the oldest in our class and I took it, knowing that the second you turned eighteen I would have priority. Do you really think anyone in my social position who thinks so well and thoroughly only of himself would make such an early Declaration if they weren’t truly certain you are the most perfect thing they had ever wanted?”

 

Blaine didn’t even need to think. He only saw a flicker of surprise in Sebastian’s eyes as he leaned forward and tilted his head to press a soft kiss to Sebastian’s mouth. He only held the contact gently, everything in his upbringing telling him not to be so forward, even as his heart and body desired more. Sebastian cupped his chin before he could pull away and opened enough to pull Blaine’s lower lip into his mouth. It was achingly slow and slightly dirty; Sebastian licked into the kiss and tugged Blaine’s chin to open him up as well. Through the rush of emotions and sensations, Blaine noticed the only thing missing was nerves. There was a palpable lack of the fear and discomfort that had tarnished Sebastian’s attempts to seduce him before. Now there was just a thick and heady pulse everywhere Sebastian’s mouth moved against his.

 

They only broke for breath and Blaine struggled to slow the rapid beating of his heart. The feeling of a breeze fanning the loose curls at the base of his neck returned and Blaine’s eyes fluttered open slowly.

 

Sebastian’s hair fell onto his forehead and his hand still cradled around Blaine’s jaw. His eyes sparkled as he drank in Blaine’s flushed and dazed face. They still breathed deeply in unison and jumped at the same time when the door behind them swung open noisily. The hazy, heated moment passed.

 

But neither of them had much to say the rest of the morning. Something warm and electric hummed between their bodies each time they were near each other, making Blaine thrill with excitement, and Sebastian shiver with a desire he had never felt so keenly for another man. A desire enhanced by a true depth of feeling.

 

Later that evening, after an impromptu date on the way back to Dalton, Blaine bid Sebastian goodnight. The jacket that was still clutched around his shoulders was removed and placed over the back of his desk chair. He would probably return it to Sebastian the following morning. Or he might not. Perhaps he would keep it has a memento for day his heart turned towards Sebastian.


	9. A Song and a Mistake

_The Smythe Estate_

 

“Okay, if you were hoping for me to empathize more with your personality by seeing the creepy place you grew up,” Blaine teased. “Then mission accomplished.”

 

Blaine followed close as Sebastian led him through the Smythe estate’s woods. The imposing oak silhouettes protecting beds of moss and fern below were a striking contrast to the manicured pleasure grounds and entrance to the estate. This had not been on the calendar, but Sebastian had stolen him away nevertheless, surprising Blaine with what he very much considered a date, unusual and unplanned as it was.

 

“Don’t let my family hear you insult the Birnam kin brought here from Scotland especially,” Sebastian chuckled, taking Blaine’s hand where the roots had upset the path. “Not unless you want a four-hour lecture on 900-year-old battles and clans and blah blah blah.”

 

“On the contrary,” Blaine countered and allowed for their fingers to more firmly clasp together. His stomach tightened pleasurably at the sensation of skin against skin, unaccustomed to hand-holding with anyone. “I find it fascinating that your family has brought so much of your heritage with them to the States. When my mom’s family comes to visit it’s mostly to eat, talk all at once, and scold me if my Bisayan has gotten worse.”

 

Blaine smiled fondly at the thought of those bright and cheerful family get-togethers, filled with uncles and aunts, cousins, nieces and nephews aplenty. Where his father had learned to sit back and let the riot of affectionate noise and touch wash over him. Cooper loved scooping two or three bundles of dusky, dark-eyed children in his arms and towering his way through fawning mamas and tiyas, kissing and chattering with them all at once. It was a family triumph when he Declared for a beautiful woman of their own island.

 

Sebastian’s silence brought Blaine around from his reverie. “They can be a lot sometimes,” he offered. “But I hope you like them. They’re good-hearted people and I think…they’ll like you.” It struck him then how much he wanted his family to like Sebastian. As the days went by towards the end of Interim, he’d come to think more and more that perhaps the outcome of this was clear enough.

 

When Blaine looked up, he caught Sebastian staring back at him, their pace slowing. His hand squeezed Blaine’s and that inscrutable expression was in his eyes.

 

“I hope they do,” Sebastian said at last, turning back to where the forest seemed to clear slightly. “And if they do,” his tone lightened, “maybe you’ll finally start to like me as well.”

 

Though he huffed a small laugh, Blaine felt a pang of guilt sharp in his gut. At certain points in their courtship Blaine felt so exasperated he thought he could brave the impunity and the scandal and throw the whole thing over. But more often than not of late, he wished he hadn’t played such a part in keeping them at odds for so long. Sebastian was not the man he’d once thought him; he was so much more, and Blaine could begin to admit to himself that he liked that man quite a lot.

 

“Well, here we are,” Sebastian said, stopping in the middle of what seemed to be a ruin. Ohio had no real ruins of course and it was merely an abandoned structure, covered in perhaps three decades of overgrowth and moss. Stone foundations had been laid and two limestone walls ended at haphazard heights. Vines, wildflowers and delicate fauna flourished in the sunlight passing through the clearing.

 

“This is so beautiful, Sebastian,” Blaine breathed out, eyes blinking in the sunlight, unaware of Sebastian watching him.

 

“Grandfather was going to have a private church built,” Sebastian explained. “A little chapel where baptisms and weddings and funerals could take place without the society folderol. But my grandmother’s death destroyed all his beliefs, small though they were. She was only thirty-eight and she was gone within weeks of them finding the cancer.”

 

Sadness over a woman Blaine had never even met shadowed his young face. Instinctively, Sebastian brought a hand up to caress away the pain he hadn’t meant to cause.

 

“Suffice it to say he didn’t see much use for worship after that, nor the expense of a building intended for such things.”

 

“Oh, I don’t see it at all as unfit for worship,” Blaine replied, gazing dreamily at the sky and walking a circle around Sebastian while still attached at their hands. “I don’t blame your grandfather for his loss of faith, though I hope he finds something else to believe in. This place has all the feeling of sanctuary you could want. A wedding would be beautiful here, just as it is.”

 

As soon as the words had reached his lips, Blaine wished he could snatch them back. Not because he was embarrassed of his own sudden, unexpected fantasy: Sebastian in an elegant suit, himself in a fine woven shirt, hands brought together under the canopy of sunlight and saplings bowing at the congregation. Rather, he worried that Sebastian would find it all so silly and overly sentimental, a waste of their time. Just like his grandfather and the keeping of this ruin. A folly.

 

But the heated kiss Sebastian pressed to his lips as he drew Blaine against him suggested that at least he didn’t consider a wedding between the two of them to be a silly, romantic waste at all. Blaine did not know how anyone was supposed to become used to kisses such as these, his stomach fluttered and pleasure tingled all across his skin.

 

Sebastian held the kiss long enough to melt Blaine just a little before releasing him, dancing him back around by the hand.

 

“Well, sanctuary is certainly an accurate description for this place where I’m concerned,” Sebastian went on, pleased at the blush of red left in Blaine’s cheeks. “I used to come here whenever the family was too much, if my father had that ‘family honor’ look on his face, or if mother was drinking before noon. It’s been a safe place from all of them since I was a kid.”

 

Blaine paused in the little circles he was turning in as Sebastian led him across the crumbling floor.

 

“And I bet I know just what you used to do when you came out here, Mr. Warbler,” Blaine teased and he smiled, eyes scrunching up in delight.

 

Sebastian dropped Blaine’s hand and sighed in mock despair, but Blaine simply danced on his feet in delight, shaking Sebastian’s long arms teasingly.

 

“Oh come on, Bas! Just one song. I sang on my own just for you already, it’s the least you can do in return.” The nickname slipped from Blaine’s lips before he could stop it, but Sebastian did not seem displeased by it at all, if he even noticed it.

 

“Uuuggh,” Sebastian groaned, seizing Blaine by the shoulders and maneuvering him to sit on a piece of lower wall. “Fine. One song, and that’s all you get.”

 

Blaine shifted on his seat with delight, hands clasped neatly in his lap. Even in the earliest stages of knowing Sebastian, back when he thought the worst of him, Blaine could not deny the pleasure he found in listening to Sebastian sing. Warbler practices were some of the easiest moments of their prior acquaintance, even considering the way Sebastian would sidle up to him.

 

“Naturally, it’s got to be a Celtic ballad or else the estate would burst into flames with disgust,” Sebastian told him. “And I always liked the lyrics of this one. When I was a young boy, I used to think Caledonia was a woman because he kept singing ‘let me tell you that I love you.’ My dad still sings it at every Highland Fling after exactly five glasses of whiskey.” Sebastian rambled slightly, his hands smoothing invisible leaves off his trousers. “I’ve never known my father to love anything as much as he loves the mother country.”

 

The last part was said with a note of wistful sadness Blaine had never heard in Sebastian’s voice before. Having no good will toward the man himself, and rightfully so, it was evident how little love existed in the Smythe manor for a first son to still long for such a father’s affection, despite what he knew Mr. Smythe to be capable of.

 

Sebastian sighed and looked down at where Blaine’s owlish face peered up at him. “Am I really going to do this, right here?”

 

“Yes you are, mister! With that little preamble? Now I absolutely have to hear a Smythe man sing an ode to his motherland in person.”

 

“Fine. But I’m not closing my eyes or getting super into it or anything.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Blaine leaned back against the mossy stone and let his own eyes close and soak up the clear tenor of Sebastian’s voice as the sun shone down on them. Blaine’s heart felt as open as it ever had and he thought perhaps his decision was made that much easier.

 

***

 

It wasn’t as though Blaine had forgotten his own birthday, only that he hadn’t paid the approaching date much thought in comparison of the much larger issue commanding much of his time. But when he awoke that morning he found a bouquet of roses perched outside his door and a short note from Sebastian:

 

_Fad saol agat_

_\- S_

 

Blaine smiled at Sebastian’s fussy handwriting, even if he could only assume what the words meant.

 

Breakfast was a nearly usual affair. Sebastian pressed a warm kiss that tasted of toothpaste to Blaine’s mouth when he arrived at his room and Blaine flushed at being kissed in such a public space as the Dalton hallways. Sebastian kissed him again when he helped Blaine into his blazer and his fingers were warm at his wrists were the cufflinks Sebastian had gifted with him still shone brightly.

 

They sat at their usual table with the Warblers and Blaine accepted their friendly pats on the back and punches to the shoulders with the deep affection with which they were meant. His 18th birthday would be more fully celebrated later at his parents’ home; a full _fete_ with drinks and dancing and toasts that would surely embarrass Blaine. He was pleased to think that at least Sebastian would be there to take some of the attention off of him.

 

“Remind me to make you breakfast one day,” Sebastian murmured in Blaine’s ear as he set a tray brimming with food down.

 

“Don’t forget I’ve seen your culinary skills in action, mister,” Blaine teased, thinking of that wonderful morning at the soup kitchen, and Sebastian slopping gravy on himself.

 

“I was working with less than adequate materials,” Sebastian countered with a raised eyebrow.

 

Blaine merely smiled and rested his cheek on Sebastian’s firm shoulder for a moment, letting the low hum of the Warblers chattering away around them and the warmth of Sebastian’s body fill him.

 

It certainly wasn’t the worst way to start his 18th birthday.

 

***

 

_Dalton Academy, Finnegan S. Dalton Library_

 

Later in the afternoon, Sebastian found Blaine ensconced in a study room in the Library. He was alone, but the door was open and the other rooms around were also occupied. Finals were approaching and even the best students in the school had decided that perhaps they should devote a bit of time towards their grades.

 

Sebastian took a moment to observe Blaine unnoticed. He was hunched over a book with his laptop open next to him, showing a document crammed with text. His blazer was off and hanging on the back of his chair and the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his tanned, muscled forearms and dark hair. A few curls had come free around his temples and when he shifted Sebastian could see that his tie was loose at his throat.

 

He was beautiful and Sebastian wanted him more than ever.

 

Sebastian slid into a chair next to Blaine. “Happy birthday, Mr. Anderson,” he drawled.

 

Blaine startled and looked up, smiling when his gaze landed on Sebastian. “Hey. Oh, thank you again, for the flowers this morning. They were lovely.”

 

Sebastian shrugged. “The least I could do for my Intended.” Blaine blushed, but did not disagree. “What are you working on?”

 

“English lit paper,” Blaine said, turning the book he’d been reading over for Sebastian to see.

 

“Why am I not surprised you picked Jane Austen?”

 

“I couldn’t possibly subject myself to Kerouac or Thompson.” Blaine wrinkled his nose in derision and Sebastian wanted to kiss him.

 

“Well, I hate to interrupt something as important as English lit, but I wanted to give you your birthday gift.”

 

Blaine sat up a little straighter. “You know you needn’t do that.”

 

“Of course I do.” Sebastian reached into his school bag and withdrew this tablet. “It’s your 18th, besides. Your grand coming age.”

 

“Your old tablet,” Blaine teased. “You really shouldn’t have.”

 

Sebastian rolled his eyes and brought the browser up. “No one told me I was marrying a comedian. Here, happy birthday.”

 

On the screen was an image of a grand, beautiful penthouse apartment and a listing of all its details and specifications. Expecting an exclamation of joy, or even a small gasp of surprise, Sebastian was confused when Blaine looked up at him with cold, narrowed eyes.

 

“What is this?”

 

“It’s your birthday gift.” The hardness in Blaine’s eyes made Sebastian’s stomach clench uncomfortably.

 

“It’s an apartment.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Blaine pressed his lips together and seemed to be calculating what to say next. “Did you buy me an apartment?”

 

“I -- yes.” Sebastian shifted restlessly. This was not the reaction he had expected at all and his heart was starting to beat loudly in his ears. “I thought -- it’s an amazing. place. The penthouse, naturally. New York City, of course. Quiet neighborhood on the west side. Lots of trees. The apartment has a terrace and a fireplace. Plenty of room for a piano. The bedroom is extraordinary and--”

 

“Sebastian,” Blaine interrupted, and his voice was tense and thin. “What are you doing?”

 

“Obviously we aren’t going to stay in Ohio after graduation,” Sebastian pointed out. “And I know you’ve talked about moving to New York. It’s where your brother lives, after all.”

 

“So you just...bought me an apartment.”

 

“Well, I know you’re not going to get the bulk of your family inheritance; that will all go to Cooper.”

 

The coldness in Blaine’s eyes was quickly replaced by bright fury. “And you thought you would just decide what happens to me, to my life, after graduation?”

 

“It’s not just your life, Blaine, it’s our life.”

 

“Not yet.”

 

Sebastian sat back as though he’d been slapped. Everything was suddenly, oppressively loud in the otherwise quiet, stuffy library. His beating heart. Blaine’s quick breaths. The rustle of clothing. “Why are you reacting like this? It’s a great apartment and--”

 

“Because you don’t fucking get to decide the rest of my life!” Blaine’s voice echoed through the library and Sebastian could feel heads turned to look at them. He was acutely aware they were not alone in this quiet space.

 

“Can we have this discussion someplace else?” He almost said ‘please,’ but stopped himself.

 

Blaine nodded curtly and quickly gathered up his things. Sebastian tried to guide him with a hand at the small of his back, but Blaine stepped away from him with a sharp glare.

 

The librarian glared at them too as they strode out into the hallway and Sebastian wanted to bare his teeth at her.

 

Sebastian might have had longer legs, but Blaine was angry and quickly put enough distance between them that Sebastian had to jog a few steps to catch up.

 

“Blaine, I don’t understand why you’re acting like this. I thought you’d appreciate it.”

 

Blaine whirled around, fury blazing in his eyes. “Appreciate being manhandled across the country? Appreciate the very next step of my life after school being decided for me? Appreciate not even having a say in the matter about where I’m to live?”

 

Sebastian gaped helplessly at him for a few minutes. “But you said you wanted to live in New York…”

 

“I did!” Blaine exclaimed and his cheeks were flushed red. “And I do, but that’s not the point. The point is you didn’t even ask me. You didn’t ask what I wanted, i _f_ I wanted. You just -- you just took this away from me too.”

 

Sebastian clenched his jaw and his fists - anger, shame, and confusion whirling furiously inside him. “I thought it would be…” Sebastian trailed off. He didn’t really know what he thought. Romantic, perhaps, presenting his future husband with a place to call their own.

 

“Why are you working this hard?” Blaine demanded. “Why do you care so fucking much about all of this nonsense?”

 

Sebastian stood up straighter, hurt more than he cared to acknowledge. “You know, this is likely the only time I too will go through a Courtship in this fashion. You could try showing it, and me, a little respect.”

 

“Respect?” Blaine scoffed. “You’re basically forcing me into a marriage, because of societal tradition. How can you be okay with that?”

 

“Your hand was always going to be forced, Blaine. Always. You’re the second son of a prominent family. You were never going to have the choice your romantic heart wanted. Your life was decided for you the moment you were born into that family. Just like mine was decided for me.” Sebastian paused and took a deep breath. His heart pounded harshly in his chest and throat; he could hardly look at the pain in Blaine’s eyes.

 

“There are others who would do so much worse by you,” Sebastian continued. “Hunter was lusting after you even last year, did you know. Last year. How he wanted you. Wanted to fuck you and then make a claim on you. But you weren’t of age and neither was he. He came of age only a few weeks after me.”

 

“So what?” Blaine sniped. “You were saving me from him? From them? What a white knight you are. I don’t need your protection.”

 

“Of course not,” Sebastian sneered. “You handled yourself just fine with him at that club, didn’t you.”

 

“That’s low of you.”

 

Sebastian pushed the comment aside even as the pain of it lanced through his chest. “And Greg Lee. Do you even know what he wants?”

 

“There are other ways--”

 

“Did you honestly think you’d be allowed to wait for someone you fell in love with?”

 

“Nick and Jeff--”

 

“Are an anomaly,” Sebastian cut in, his voice thickly bitter. “They got lucky. You are I -- people like us, we don’t get lucky. We are born into this and we will die in it. There is no escape.”

 

“There could be,” Blaine tried.

 

“What?”

 

“Neither of us has to go through with this. You don’t have to.”

 

Sebastian raked his hands through his hair. “Jesus Christ, Blaine. How can you be so fucking naive? How can you still think there is any other outcome for us? What will you do? Reject Offers until your family name is so wrecked no one else will want you? Disavow your family and become a bachelor for the rest of your life? You would do that to your parents?”

 

Blaine licked his lips. “My brother…”

 

“Did what every proper first son does. He got married and started working on a new family. Just because he happens to like his wife doesn’t mean he didn’t do exactly what was expected of him. What is expected of you. And me. Expectations are all we’ve got, Blaine. Why can’t you see that? We have our roles to fill, duties to be performed. That is who we are and it doesn’t change, no matter how much we might want it to.”

 

“But if you just--”

 

“Just what?!” Sebastian bellowed. “Renounce my bastard father and run off to some foreign country with different customs than the ones that constrain us here? With what money would I survive on? Where would I go with a name like mine dragging behind me? You expect me to find that life preferable to this? You should have been born poor for all your ridiculous thoughts of romanticism and fairness. Life isn’t fair, Blaine. It never was and never will be. Not for you and certainly not for me. Do you think I would have chosen to be born--” Sebastian stopped abruptly. He breathed harshly; the air in his chest cold as his cheeks burned hot. His heart beat so loudly his hands shook with it.

 

Blaine looked dumbstruck, chastened, and confused, and yet defiance still showed in his beautiful eyes. “I think you’re hiding,” he said boldly. “I think you’re terrified that someone might find out that you’re not a completely self absorbed asshole.”

 

“Yeah, well, maybe I am hiding, because look what happens when I try to do something for someone I care about. When you decide to stop being so fucking selfish you let me know.” With that, Sebastian turned on his heel and strode off as quickly as he could, leaving Blaine standing alone in the empty hallway.

 

***

 

_Dalton Academy: The Old Ballroom_

 

The seasons for polo and swimming were thankfully over and Sebastian had never looked forward to fencing training more. His once beautifully plotted course for the future was suddenly free-falling into chaotic ruin and he needed nothing more than the sharp finesse of his rapier and the exact lines of attack.

 

He dressed quickly and was waiting on the piste for an opponent. From the corner of his eye he saw Blaine's small form sitting in the chairs along one wall of the old ballroom reserved for boys unable or not allowed to practice, but who wished to observe. His angry words about tradition and rules surged up bitter in his throat; among the rest of Blaine's disadvantages as a second son under a Declaration, he was barred from all military or direct combat that could result in grievous injury. Blaine was probably just as frustrated and desperate as Sebastian, yet there he was forced to sit, watching the other boys as he was preserved for matrimony.

 

"On guard!"

 

Jolting back to attention, Sebastian assumed position. He was unaware of his opponent's identity and did not care. He had advanced to épée and most boys who fought him were too afraid or easily defeated. Today however, Sebastian found himself on the sharp end of the master's discipline as he bore through student after student with wild aggression. At each break in combat his eyes were drawn to Blaine. The anxiety and even fear he saw on his face filled Sebastian with more irrational anger. In that expression he could see Blaine slipping at last from the last of Sebastian's influence. Out of his hands and into the greedy embrace of every first son of age, every student and teacher, every man in Ohio who had what Sebastian did not: a warm, kind heart.

 

Or at least the appearance of one, Sebastian realised as Greg Lee took position directly opposite him. He’d left his mask up just long enough for Sebastian to see his face.

 

"You and Anderson are quite the pair today, aren't you?" Greg began, thrusting into an aggressive attack before the signal to begin had been given.

 

Sebastian was only temporarily taken off guard before he regained his position. His once and former lover needed to be put in his place and out of Sebastian's way for good.

 

"Please, do raise your voice as you reveal your deceitful intentions in stealing Blaine from me," he countered smoothly, engaging Greg in a complex manoeuvre he well knew that the other boy had never mastered. "Unlike you, I know his heart. If he suspects you of subterfuge against a Declaration, you will never have his favour." Greg thrust forward angrily, Sebastian swiftly parried. "Let alone his body."

 

The combat quickly devolved into shoving with the occasional proper riposte. Both boys knew they were being watched closely and it only made the stakes higher. Sebastian had the height advantage and was able to force Greg away hard enough to make the other boy stumble. Blood surging at the triumph, Sebastian resumed position and teased Greg with a slight feint.

 

"How infuriating it must have been, to know that if you were just three weeks older you might have had Blaine for yourself," Sebastian mocked, though he hated himself for it. "Just think how proud your family would be! But instead, know how disappointed they’ll be, especially considering their only son couldn't secure Maria Josefina Escaño's fine second son. The Lees and the Escaño’s go back generations, don't they? Tsk tsk, such an easy task and yet you failed them all."

 

Humiliated and aware of the number of boys now paused to watch them, Greg wrenched his mask off and lunged with fury. The bout resumed with increased ferocity and violence, but still with Sebastian in the advantage. He continued to tease just long enough for Greg to leave himself open for a second too long, and a clear hit struck him directly over his heart.

 

A few nervous cheers went up and the master attempted to gain order. Greg swatted Sebastian's blade away and glared ugly and poisonous at him.

 

"When were you planning on just drugging him, Sebastian? Everyone knows that is your family's favoured method of--"

 

Greg suddenly gasped and gulped for air, flat on his back from Sebastian’s wild punch. He had just enough time to catch Sebastian's fist aimed squarely at his eye, tugging him across his body and rolling them over. Sebastian took the switch to his advantage and began pummelling into the other boy's side with his free fist. Greg bellowed in pain and landed two short punches to Sebastian's face, unable to strike with any accuracy at the close proximity. A sharp heat blossomed near Sebastian's ear where his mask pressed into his flesh with each blow.

 

"I say boys, that’s enough of this foolishness!" The master bellowed above them, the other boys crowding eagerly and egging them on. Blaine's voice shouting out in the din was lost and he was held back, either by instinct from boys who knew to protect him or just from eagerness to keep the fight going.

 

The boys tousled and wrestled for advantage long enough that Sebastian tasted blood trickling where his head was pressed against the floor. With a fresh surge of strength he threw Greg off of him with such force that the other boy stumbled backward into the wall of onlookers.

 

Sebastian stood and ripped his mask away, looking with such deadly intent that Greg actually cowered and pushed through the crowd, clutching his side.

 

In the mirror above Blaine's head, Sebastian caught sight of himself: crimson streaked across on side of his face, eyes wild, face severe blotches of white and pink, hair damp and dishevelled with sweat. A memory of his father looking just the same, in a towering rage at seven year-old Sebastian over some trifling childhood transgression shook him down to his bones.

 

Letting his mask fall at his feet, he threw himself across the room and out of the doors.

 

***

 

_Dalton: Room 405, Sebastian’s Room_

 

Not even gaining the safety and quiet of his own room could stop the thrumming of Sebastian's pulse in his ears. Gloves and jacket had been ripped away as his body ran extreme hot and cold. The cut on his face was a dull ache compared to the vice of fear inside his chest. All along, he had known Blaine would be his superior in everything but wealth. He had no delusions of Blaine somehow making a Smythe into a good and fine human being. But it had been Blaine's fine and good heart that caused an emptiness in Sebastian to ache with longing, the same way misers long for gold or how children long for a missing parent. Now the thought of living forever with the loss of Blaine was worse than hearing that Blaine had died. Wasn't love supposed to make a man noble, selfless and kind? It couldn't be love then, because the thought of Blaine living his life without Sebastian made him want to howl at the world and dive off the edge of somewhere. To become nothing if he couldn't somehow be with Blaine.

 

A gentle but insistent knock at the door broke his manic pacing. Sebastian realised he had been clenching his hands together and baring down on the knuckles with his teeth. His eyes burned and tears were hot on his cheeks as he hastily wiped them away.

 

He turned to tell whomever it was to go away and jolted at the sight of Blaine already standing in the doorway. Blaine’s eyes were fiercely bright, almost wild, and he was utterly beautiful.

 

They both spoke at once.

 

"Sebastian..."

 

"Please, Blaine, don't." Sebastian wasn’t sure he could bear to hear what Blaine might have to say.

 

Blaine sighed indulgently and bustled over in a way that Sebastian would think, in any other scenario, was husbandly.

 

“Sebastian, please,” Blaine urged.   “Sit down.”

 

“I’m fine,” Sebastian insisted. “You needn’t be here.” Moreover, he didn’t want Blaine to see him like this.

 

“You’re bleeding,” Blaine pointed out. He seemed oddly calm for the frenzied, embarrassing scene they’d just come from. “Please, just -- sit down.”

 

Sebastian sat resignedly on the edge of his bed and watched as Blaine disappeared into his bathroom. Any other day he would have noted the ease with which Blaine moved through his dorm room, the comfort and familiarity despite the fact that Blaine was rarely in his room, but his heart was still pounding too hard and too fast in his throat and his hands were shaking. The adrenaline was still coursing through him, keeping him off-kilter and out of sorts.

 

Blaine came back out of the bathroom, holding a bag of cotton balls and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. His hands were steady and sure has he dealt with the supplies, and a fierce pride and want for him rose in Sebastian’s chest, though it was quelled instantly by the looming fear that this might be their last moment of intimacy forever.

 

“We have the proper facilities on the premises for just these sorts of things," Sebastian said, trying to sound unconcerned, unaffected. "You needn’t...play nursemaid and dirty your hands with this nonsense.”

 

“Stop it,” Blaine chided shortly, frowning. “Isn’t it going to be one of my _duties_ to take care of you? So let me.” There was sarcasm in his tone, yes, but not completely.

 

Sebastian looked up at that. Blaine stood just brushing against his breeches, holding a cotton ball soaked in alcohol, his brow furrowed in worry and his expression concerned. Sebastian wasn’t sure if Blaine had meant to say what he had, or if it was just a slip of the tongue.

 

“I’m so sorry, but this is going to hurt. I’ll try to make it quick.” Blaine stepped closer, between Sebastian’s spread knees, and gently cupped his jaw in one hand. Tilting his head back, he pressed the damp cotton to the wound. The sting made Sebastian jerk and flinch, but the deep worry etched across Blaine’s lovely face was more than enough to ease the pain. They were so close that Sebastian could see the stubble beginning to form on Blaine’s cheeks and the flush blotching his throat. Blaine’s eyes were whiskey-warm, focused, and shadowed by his lashes and Sebastian couldn’t remember ever looking up at someone to kiss them.

 

“Okay?” Blaine asked, voice soft. His hand was warm on Sebastian’s jaw and he bit his lip as he dabbed at the scrape, cleaning it carefully.

 

“It’s fine,” Sebastian answered huskily, his voice rasping from him.

 

He was suddenly, acutely aware that he was sitting shirtless on his bed with his Intended close between his legs, and that there were tentative fingers moving down his throat to his collarbone and across his shoulders. Blaine was touching him seemingly without thinking, lead by instinct and comfort. A fresh wave of longing and desire struck Sebastian and he was forced to pull Blaine's hand away and press a solemn kiss to the palm.

 

“Sebastian?” Blaine was looking down at him, eyes roaming all over him.

 

“Why are you here?”

 

“I was afraid,” Blaine admitted, seemingly before he could stop the words. “For you. Watching you fight that boy. When he hit you. It was so awful, Sebastian. I was so angry and so scared at the same time. Especially after how we left things in the hallway...”

 

“Blaine, what he said about-”

 

“I don’t care what he said. It doesn’t matter to me.” Blaine’s hand stopped its exploration, coming to rest on Sebastian’s chest, close enough to his heart.

 

“Blaine, you have to know something, and I know it will change everything and --" Sebastian gulped past the strangled pain. "I know I will have to void the Contract and release you, but I can’t let there be any secrets between us. I can't let you go without you knowing the whole truth. You can't just stand there being so sweet and understanding towards the selfish, undeserving man who was too much of a coward to realise just why he wanted you in the first place--"

 

“Bas," Blaine murmured softly, carding fingers through Sebastian’s messy, sweat-damp hair. "You can tell me anything. I'm here.”

 

“My father. He is...” Sebastian swallowed. “He is unhappy with the way our Contract has progressed. And he...gave me something. To give to you. To -- to facilitate the...progression of our relationship.” The shame of what his father had expected him to do ran through Sebastian like ice, drying his mouth and freezing his core. “But Blaine, darling, I promise you, I never once thought about using it. I would never. It’s vile and and repulsive and illegal and I threw it out the moment he left.”

 

“Shh,” Blaine smoothed his fingers across Sebastian’s worried, furrowed forehead, letting his thumb trace the eyebrow. “It’s okay. I know about it.”

 

“You do?”

 

 “I was there, that day. I was in the hallway. I saw. That was your _father_ , Sebastian. You are not him. So don't tell me what kind of man I am marrying because I already know, and I already love him.”

 

Sebastian blinked at Blaine’s soft confession, his mouth opening but no words coming out. Before he could remember to breathe, Blaine leaned down and pressed his soft lips to Sebastian’s. Just a sure moment, like sealing a pact.

 

A broken sound left Sebastian as he released a breath against Blaine’s lips. He thought he could lose himself in kissing Blaine, and he wanted to, desperately, but the newly awoken conscience in him suggested that he ought to talk things through more, to take things slowly and gain more understanding with Blaine. And still lingering were the long weeks of Blaine rejecting him; Sebastian could not in good faith take anything for granted, not when perhaps Blaine truly wanted for something else.

 

Sebastian leaned back far enough to break the kiss and Blaine released an unhappy sound.

 

“Look, Blaine. It’s...you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to say that. I’ll let you go. For what’s happened between us, I’ll you go. I’ll tear up the Contract and release you from everything - all obligations. You’ll be free to walk away. No tricks. No caveats. You can go. I’ll -- I’ll move back to Paris for the rest of the school year. I’ll be done. It’ll be over. You can go find someone else, someone better. You can go.” Sebastian pressed his lips together and could taste Blaine there. “You should go.”

 

Blaine shook his head. “No, Bas. I -- no, I don’t want to go, and I’ll won’t let you force me away. Not now. This won’t be easy, that’s for goddamn sure, and we’ll need to make some changes to the Contract. It’s too soon for us to get married, far too soon. We’ll change the language in the Contract to have a yearlong engagement. Six months won’t be enough.”

 

Sebastian paled, but Blaine smiled softly, soothingly. “No, it’s okay,” Blaine continued. “Listen to me, I’m not going to let you tear the Contract up.” Blaine found Sebastian’s hands and squeezed them tightly.

 

“Blaine,” Sebastian tried, but Blaine only shook his head.

 

“Shut up and let me talk. We’ll take the year, okay? Maybe you can take me to Paris, after school ends. Or London. Somewhere. Just us. We’ll figure out who we are together, if we can be something together without all this -- this nonsense. And then, after the year, if we both agree to part ways, we will.”

 

Sebastian’s stomach twisted painfully. “Blaine,” he choked.

 

“We’ll write in in the updated Contract. If we part ways it won’t stain either of us. Mutual agreement to terminate the Contract. But,” Blaine smiled and let go of one of Sebastian’s trembling hands to push his fingers through Sebastian’s hair. “But if not, if we think we can do this - together - then let’s do this. Let’s get married. If we both want to.”

 

“You want to marry me.” With each word the smile grew brighter across Sebastian’s face.

 

“I didn’t say that,” Blaine protested and fingers trailed across Sebastian’s jaw with a tenderness that made his heart ache.

 

“You did. You said ‘let’s get married.’”

 

“Okay, fine, but that was within a particular context, you asshole.” Blaine rolled his eyes, but the grin did not leave his face.

 

“I’m sorry about the apartment,” Sebastian said, sincerely. “I didn’t realize how you might take it, how it would come across to you.”

 

“I’m sorry I reacted how I did. It was thoughtful, after all.”

 

“I can cancel the sale,” Sebastian announced, and he meant it. Anything to make Blaine happy with him. “You can pick, you can decide where--”

 

Blaine stroked his thumb across Sebastian’s cheek. “Don’t. We should keep it. It looks nice. We can make a home out of it, when we’re ready for that. If, I suppose.”

 

Sebastian suddenly pushed to his feet and wrapped his arms around Blaine, tugging him tight to his body and capturing his mouth in a wild, deep kiss. Sebastian knew then that if he could have this in his life he would be the kind of man he never thought he could be.

 

One brush of the cold void that life would be without Blaine was all Sebastian needed to know he would never allow himself near that precipice ever again.


	10. Towards an End

_The Anderson Residence, Westerville, Ohio_

 

Though the Sebastian of three months ago would never had admitted it, he quite liked the Anderson’s home. Grand by normal standards, it was modest by the Smythes’, but full of warmth and personality. Photos of Blaine and Cooper dominated the mantle above the fireplace in the main living room, family portraits dotted the walls in the hallways, school awards sat on the shelves like greater trophies. It was a far cry from Sebastian’s childhood home to be sure, and it was a place he hoped to become quite familiar with in the future.

 

"Sebastian dear,” Mrs. Anderson said. “I still feel awful about not asking your parents to be here for this."

 

First exchanging a meaningful look with Blaine, Sebastian smiled at Mrs. Anderson, his soon-to-be mother-in-law.

 

"I assure you,” Sebastian responded. “My parents will be far more relieved to hear that the contracts are already signed and sealed, and that the marriage is complete. My mother will be enough for you to handle when it comes to planning the reception that you’ll look back on this evening grateful she wasn’t here."

 

The ever polite Andersons and their cousin, the lawyer, allowed nothing but a nervous giggle at the expense of their new in-laws. It would not do to be completely impolite at such an occasion, even if Sebastian was the only Smythe at hand to hear the slight against his parents. They sat gathered round the small family dinner table in the Anderson's comfortable kitchen, a serene early evening light rosing their smiling faces and warming the comfortable brick and timber kitchen that always smelled of spice and vanilla.

 

Sebastian sat back and observed the family as the lawyer read aloud the terms and final sanctions of their marriage in a lilting accent. Blaine's slim and handsome father was dressed in a cardigan and slacks, with his small, doe-eyed beauty of a mother in her perpetual Chanel. Blaine sat closest to Sebastian, elegant in his father’s comfortable fashions, but still the young image of his mother with her dark, glossy hair. Sebastian even liked the thirty-something Escaño lawyer who was trying to be all business in his too-large suit as he dealt with the complicated legal aspects of the Contract. The remnants of coffee and dessert were spread across the table, and the picture of warmth and sweetness was a striking opposite of the cold, empty rooms occupied only by the passing ghosts of Sebastian’s mother and father. Yes, Sebastian was glad to be joining a new family, even if technically Blaine was actually joining his. Sebastian knew that the Anderson’s would now consider him one of their own.

 

When the lawyer was finished reading the Contract aloud - an old and tedious tradition that needed to be expunged - the paperwork was pushed across the table towards Sebastian and a pen handed over to him.

 

The pen felt warm and heavy in his hand, and when Sebastian glanced over, Blaine was staring at him with deep, dark eyes.

 

“Last chance to back out,” Sebastian murmured, but Blaine simply rolled his eyes.

 

“Just sign it.”

 

The ink flowed out crisp and black as Sebastian scrawled his signature across the page. The weight of it, the finality of what they were doing, began to creep up his spine, warm and soothing.

 

“Now you,” Sebastian said, sliding the papers over to Blaine and handing him the same pen.

 

Blaine bit his lip, but signed his name without a breath of hesitation. Sebastian’s heart squeezed tightly in his chest and he exhaled. What had begun months ago was nearly complete.

 

“Will you be exchanging rings?” The lawyer asked, and Mr. Anderson passed over a small box.

 

Inside were two silver rings, completely plain and unadorned. No diamonds, no ostentation to mar the smooth, solid metal. Blaine’s hand trembled as Sebastian slid one of the rings onto his finger; he would have made a small joke about it, but his own hands were trembling as well.

 

“Now you really can’t run,” Sebastian muttered as Blaine picked up the second ring.

 

“Neither can you,” Blaine quipped softly, and settled the ring home on Sebastian’s finger. The heat in Sebastian’s spine curled in his chest and he tangled their fingers together without even thinking about it.

 

"By the power vested in me by the United States Office of Marriages and Declarations, and by the State of Ohio, I hereby declare you husband and husband."

 

Blaine and Sebastian looked first to where their hands were clasped together then up to each other. Sebastian looked awe-stricken, but Blaine almost wanted to laugh with joy. What a turn of events from the initial Declaration to now; that Sebastian, who didn't truly know what he wanted at the time, and Blaine, who could never have imagined wanting it at all, should both end up with precisely what they needed.

 

Blaine's father gently cleared his throat and moved to stand, a sign for all to follow suit.

 

"Well, Sebastian, I must say that my Blaine made you earn your stripes, but we like you all the more for it in the end. When Cooper gets into town he'll tell you all about how everyone in this house learns to respect Squirt's occasional stubbornness."

 

Blaine groaned at the nickname. "Do we really have to get into family humiliation on the day of my marriage?" He knocked playfully against Sebastian’s shoulder, who remained unusually quiet and seemed to be barely controlling a smile from taking over his face.

 

"I'm sorry son, Sebastian's part of the family now. All bets are off!" Mr. Anderson chortled, extending a hand to Sebastian and giving him a hearty shake. They each shook the lawyer's hand next while Maria Josefina moved round the table, kissing her son on both cheeks and embracing him.

 

"Panalanginan ka, my darling boy," she murmured just for him to hear. Then turning to Sebastian, she accepted his outstretched hands and leaned up to kiss his cheek as well. "I entrust my last child to you, Sebastian Smythe. Welcome to our family." There were tears of joy in her eyes, but Sebastian was eager to reassure her.

 

"I swear it will always be my first priority in all that I do."

 

They all turned when the lawyer coughed unsubtly and moved toward the foyer outside the kitchen. All except Blaine's father blushed at the implication. Signing the contract was not the final step in ensuring that the marriage was absolutely binding.

 

"I think we can make our not-so-discreet withdrawal now, my dear," Mr. Anderson said to his wife. "Tradition, tradition.”

 

Blaine groaned again and waved his parents away, blowing kisses at his mother and glaring at his father. When he turned back towards the kitchen, Sebastian was wearing a smile so similar to one he wore when they first met that it made Blaine blush just as it did then.

 

For an agonising moment Blaine was left desperately trying to think what to say. Weddings for people such as themselves were not glamorous affairs of food and dancing, of heartfelt vows and a sealing kiss. Sebastian and Blaine had done little more than sign a paper in front of a lawyer and witnesses and that was that. They were wed. Other couples might have a grand party and a romantic honeymoon and time to themselves to do...what comes naturally. Yes, there would be a reception for friends and family to celebrate the occasion, but it would come later, after Blaine and Sebastian consummated their marriage and made the Contract utterly binding. Blaine felt frozen in this moment, knowing what was to come next, wanting it, and not knowing how to take that step towards it.

 

But then Sebastian was moving closer and lifting a hand to him, and everything in Blaine leapt forward gratefully. His head tilted back easily into Sebastian's fierce kiss, full of a heat and demand not unlike what Blaine had felt back when it was so unwelcome. Now it held a promise for all that his husband would do for him, and it was everything now that it couldn’t be before.

 

“We are married,” Sebastian murmured against Blaine’s mouth, and Blaine shivered.

 

“Apparently so.”

 

Sebastian’s hand slid down Blaine’s back, heated and possessive, but stopped short of his waist. “Where is your bedroom?”

 

***

 

The ways of their society dictated among later-born sons and daughters that sex, in most of its variants, was meant to be entirely the purview of their future husbands and wives. It was also often preached as shameful to ‘research’ the subject beforehand, despite the unquellable urges of the body. Any boy or girl not born to the position of inheritance had nothing to do but improve upon their existing attractions and cultivate personal charms to the best of their ability.

 

But Blaine had never quite been the perfect second-born son. Inexperienced though he was, completely unknowing he wasn’t.

 

Blaine felt no shame or embarrassment at being swept up into Sebastian’s arms and carried to his own bed in teasing display of classic marital tradition. He responded to the kisses pressed to his lips, rose up to meet his new husband’s caresses; arched and flexed so that his clothes could be removed with ease, discarded on the floor in a graceless heap. He sighed and preened with pleasure while Sebastian grunted out impassioned words in between hot kisses and eager touches.

 

“Fuck…god…Blaine…” Sebastian choked out, already sweating and straining to grip and squeeze the lines where his husband was taut, and the curves where he was soft and full. Blaine was everything Sebastian had ever adored separately in other men. To think that he had once wanted this boy for a stolen ten minutes upstairs in his parents’ house seemed like a crime fit for swift punishment. The tender swells of Blaine’s inner thighs demanded a knowledge of how pure his heart and mind had always been. The solid bones of his collar and shoulders had to be kissed by one who had seen Blaine’s strength and courage. Only such a one who had been granted ownership of Blaine’s heart could ever have felt a right to kiss him where Sebastian was kissing him now.

 

Even buried between Blaine’s legs as he was, Sebastian had a perfect vantage to observe him as he writhed and luxuriated against the expensive sheets. When sufficient work was done, he dragged his lips where Blaine was hard and aching. Sebastian relished the sharp intake of air and the way Blaine twisted the sheets in his hands as he swallowed Blaine down. Sebastian was not inexperienced in such things, and though perhaps he now regretted a fair few of his hasty encounters, he did not regret the skills he had acquired. He would show Blaine, in fine detail, just what his first blowjob should feel like. And Sebastian already anticipated the long and sweet hours teaching it all to him in turn.

 

Pulling away with a wet flourish and a lewd, sucking sound, Sebastian kissed a messy trail up his husband’s taut stomach and the little peaks of his nipples until he could sink his teeth into the tender junction of Blaine’s neck that had him moaning. Blaine was flushed from cheeks to cock, sweating already with his pupils blown wide. He was utterly beautiful.

 

There was, thankfully, a sufficient amount of lubricant close at hand - and not just because Sebastian had brought a tube with him to the house for this express purpose.

 

Blaine had blushed when he’d dug his own supply out of his bedside drawer and Sebastian had kissed him so fiercely it hurt his lips.

 

Sebastian reached between Blaine’s legs with wet fingers. Another time he would spend hours doing just this, teasing, stretching, and opening Blaine until his husband was positively weeping with pleasure. Another time he would make Blaine come just with his fingers and maybe the sharp sting of his teeth against Blaine’s hipbone. And then he would make him come again. But tonight they both needed more.

 

When Blaine was finally open and writhing around Sebastian’s fingers, Sebastian spread Blaine’s legs wider and began to press blindly forward. He was so hard that he found home and could, with a little adjustment of Blaine’s hips and a deep breath, finally achieve that union which held more sacred value than any contract or signature.

 

With each broken sound that left Blaine’s lips, and every tension kissed and eased away, Sebastian’s wrote his love with more intensity every time he moved. Guiding Blaine’s legs to wrap around him, Sebastian bracketed his arms around Blaine’s head and drove deeper.

 

Blaine moaned and gasped at the sensation, eyes screwed shut as his head tilted back against the pillows.

 

“I feel you…so deep…” he whispered into Sebastian’s hair, curving up to meet where Sebastian’s head was bowed in concentration. At his words Sebastian looked up, green eyes full of fire and lust. Lunging forward, caught Blaine’s mouth in a wild kiss as his hips thrust sharper, deeper into Blaine. Blaine had never seen Sebastian lose control like this, not even during that last, savage fencing practice. Not compared with how he was sweating and rasping to maintain that tenuous control now.

 

It finally occurred to Blaine what the significance of this act was and why he had been so keen to never to throw it away carelessly, even with some of the boys around him did. Everything within Sebastian was calling out out with a primal need to leave a part of himself inside Blaine, somewhere no one else would ever know. No one had ever taught Blaine to imagine how that kind of surrender might feel. As he looked down the tight lines of his husband’s muscled back and shoulders, at his strong narrow hips driving himself forward into Blaine, Blaine knew something of the need. Of the particular need Sebastian had for Blaine.

 

“Mine,” Sebastian suddenly gritted out, rasping the word on a harsh breath. “Tell me that you’re mine.” The heat in his voice made Blaine shudder and shake.

 

“Yours,” Blaine panted, hitching his ankles higher and trying to spread wider. Sebastian responded greedily, somehow getting deeper into Blaine, finding the places inside that would only ever be for him.

 

Blaine smiled as he shivered and arched beneath his husband. “But you’re mine, too.”

 

Sebastian groaned and writhed as if he were in agony. Hands slipping over sweat-damp skin, he grappled behind Blaine’s knees and tugged them up and apart. Blaine moaned at the feeling of Sebastian coming inside of him, slick and filthy, shuddering with pleasure. His own orgasm rushed upon him, fuzzing his brain as he dug his nails into his Sebastian’s heated flesh, struggling for purchase. It seemed unaccountably easy for something so intense, more so than he’d ever felt in his life. It was as if his body had found its stride in being racked with Sebastian’s, and his hips rolled as he came around Sebastian.

 

When Sebastian finally began to go weak and stuttery, Blaine used his hips to pull more, eager to keep Sebastian close, keep him inside. He was delighted with himself at Sebastian’s soft sob that he huffed a small laugh.

 

They both stayed breathing into each other’s skin for a few moments longer before Sebastian was able to keel over, stretching out across the rumbled and ruined bedsheets. Blaine twisted and cuddled up next to him, fitting himself into the spaces of Sebastian’s form, feeling endlessly smug as he surveyed his husband’s long, lean body and handsome face.

 

“Horrid little beast,” Sebastian grumbled, delivering a smart smack against Blaine’s ass. He opened one eye and fixed it on him ruefully. “You could have killed me.”

 

Blaine grinned and closed his eyes, satisfaction and contentment singing through his very blood.

 

***

 

“So, I’ve always wanted to know,” Sebastian murmured later, stroking the smooth skin of Blaine’s arm where it rested on his chest. “How much of that were you prepared for?”

 

Blaine snorted, but couldn’t budge his permanent smile of contentment. “My husband: the thoughtful and caring guy who asks if I’m ready for sex after we’ve already done it.”

 

Sebastian pressed his lips together until Blaine craned up and kissed them open again.

 

“Well,” Blaine said. “During assemblies where it was just us second and third borns, enough curious boys shared what they’d read on the internet and from older siblings that there was no completely avoiding it…”

 

Sebastian grinned toothily. “Let me guess, you were one of the boys who covered your ears and tried not to listen.”

 

Blaine rolled his eyes, but blushed nonetheless. “I _have_ been living at all boys boarding school for several years now. Despite what the Headmaster might want, the boys gossip.”

 

“Some of them even practice what they talk about,” Sebastian pointed out with a leer, if only to make Blaine blush a little more.

 

“But honestly, Bas, I don’t think anything could have prepared me for how it actually feels,” he continued. “I don’t know if it’s just you or because we’re in love, but I could never have imagined it feeling so amazing in my whole life. The other guys never talked about that part. I don’t know why not.”

 

Sebastian felt both smug and a little broken over how artlessly his new husband complimented him. For all that Blaine kicked against the tracers of their confined society, he took the values of purity and goodness to heart like a bruised gospel. Recalling their afternoon at the ruined chapel, Sebastian mused that Blaine had been the one and only faithful pilgrim to ever set foot in the place. He quietly resolved to have the chapel preserved in exactly it’s current state for Blaine’s use when the house passed down to them.

 

Something else Blaine said tickled at Sebastian. “You love me.”

 

Blaine blinked slowly and rested his chin on Sebastian’s sternum. “Yes.”

 

A bright happiness settled deep in Sebastian’s center, when he never imagined it might live. “I just like to hear you say it.”

 

Blaine’s smile was soft and radiant, all-consuming.

 

“What about you?” He asked.

 

“For our part,” Sebastian began, thinking back. “First sons were mostly taught at school how to prevent injury or discomfort for our partners, which is fairly reprehensible and worth a serious overhaul of the educational system. All other _skill_ I have to attribute to being a Smythe. Neither father nor grandfather observed any clemency toward me when it came to evening cocktails and tales of their conquests.”

 

Sebastian felt a tiny flinch from Blaine that was all the evidence of Blaine’s distaste for his husband’s storied past when it came to lovers. There was no point in denying any of it and none of Sebastian’s transgressions and flaws could be washed clean so soon. The rest of his life alone could be offered to Blaine as tribute for the man he hoped to become. At least in that moment Blaine was perfectly content in his arms.

 

Some hours later, in the dark hours of the night, Sebastian awoke with a renewed desire thrumming through his veins. He roused his husband with soft, intimate caresses over his ass and thighs, tugging Blaine by the hips to lie on top of him.

 

Blaine grumbled and kissed Sebastian’s chest wetly, already hard against Sebastian belly and rocking his hips minutely.

 

“I want you on top this time,” Sebastian husked out, maneuvering him upright.

 

Blaine’s head popped up in shock and Sebastian laughed.

 

“No darling, not like that. I mean just like this,” he said, getting breathless where he had managed to get Blaine to settle flush over his hips, the plumpness of ass and thighs delicious where he himself was so slim and powerful.

 

Blaine flushed red as tried to steady himself over Sebastian as as he prepared himself, unable to look Sebastian in the face he while probed deep with slick fingers. He then stroked a sheen of lube over Sebastian with one hand.

 

“Christ,” Sebastian choked out, hips stuttering up at the touch. “I cannot believe my fucking luck in getting you.” The words were uncouth, but the brutal honesty was something Blaine had learned to understand. In Sebastian’s eyes and through his possessive touch, Blaine saw himself as strong yet vulnerable, hard and masculine astride this much larger man who had married him. Who treasured and adored him.

 

Rising up, Blaine reached behind him and fumbled to join them enough so that he could do the rest without his hands. Sebastian was generously sized and Blaine struggled to control how slowly he lowered himself down, savouring the full, aching sensation of his husband inside him again. Twice he gasped and pulled away, but Sebastian stroked his sweat-slick thighs to urge him along.

 

The depth was so unavoidable this way, the weight of his body pressing onto Sebastian’s. It made his eyes water and the breath in his throat catch cold. He shuddered when he felt Sebastian’s big, practiced hands being stroking him to full hardness again and the last twinges melted to pleasure. He became greedy for it, circling his hips, moving faster.

 

“Let go, darling,” Sebastian murmured. “You know what to do.”

 

Blaine looked down at where his husband was a wreck, sweating and glowing with worshipping adoration up at him. Bracing himself with hands on Sebastian’s chest, Blaine gave in to his hips. He let the feeling guide him, rocking in short, stuttering moves, and then rising up and down in long passes. Blaine built the rhythm fast and slow in accord with his own pleasure, Sebastian rigid and racked beneath him with his head thrown back, eyes slits where they still watched him.

 

The heat and friction was too scorching and overwhelming. Blaine had never felt so out of control. His body moved with a power he couldn’t guide and he groped for himself and began stroking. He gaped and moaned, pounding down as if he couldn’t possibly get Sebastian deep enough to satisfy him.

 

Suddenly Sebastian’s hands reached up to grip his waist, body almost doubled over off the bed. Blaine felt it even better this time, the lurid and delicious heat and swell of Sebastian coming inside him. Something unnamable and primal took hold of him and he chased his own orgasm with even more viciousness. Sebastian’s face was slack with pleasure, but he released broken-off shouts from deep within his throat. Just as his body gave out and fell against the bed, Blaine felt the pleasure burst through his body and he threw his head back. He rolled slow and intense as he fisted himself shallowly. Where their first time had been intense, this was bestial. He looked down with new satisfaction to see himself coming all over Sebastian’s perfect torso.

 

It could only be borne for so long, and Blaine had to shakily pull himself off and flop down on the bed to ride the remaining waves. His skin burned as if he were under a sun and he could feel his pulse everywhere.

 

“Oh fuck,” Sebastian moaned hollowly, long legs flung open, his spent but still-hard cock an angry, wet red over one hip. “Fucking christ, Blaine. What are you doing to me?”

 

Blaine started to laugh giddily. Even in his own state, the fact of having razed the Westerville Casanova to a crumpled heap gave him endless delight.

 

“What’s the matter, old man? Can’t handle one little virgin?”

 

Sebastian glared weakly back at him, causing Blaine to laugh even more.

 

“Give me five minutes, you little shit. I’ll be over there and show you what for.”

 

Blaine curled onto his side, tucking one hand under his cheek and grinning sweetly. “I’ll be waiting, darling husband of mine.”

 

Sebastian rolled over and gathered Blaine into his arms, holding him tightly and feeling the steady beating of his heart.


	11. The Epilogue: In Brief

_The Anderson-Smythe Penthouse, New York City_

 

Central Park spread out vast and green before Blaine; early morning mist clinging to the trees and new spring grass. The day could turn out bright and sunny, or the low, grey clouds could remain until night fall. Either way, Blaine was happy. He took a deep breath and the air was damp with humidity. From the balcony of the penthouse, Blaine thought he could see at the way to Bowery, but he prefered the view across the park. It reminded him of home, of Ohio, and of the little ruin on the Smythe estate he’d once visited.

 

It had taken time getting used to this new home, with its unfamiliar hardwood floors and many rooms. Harder still was getting used to the fact that it was _his_. His and Sebastian’s. Owned by them and their shared finances, with no parents around. And it was a _home_ , with artwork picked out from shopping trips together, furniture they’d agreed upon with minimal arguing, and clothing stashed away in a walk in-closet Blaine swore was bigger than his dorm at Dalton.

 

Blaine heard the balcony doors opening behind him, but he didn’t bother to turn around to see who it was. He knew. Sure enough, slippered feet shuffled closer and then long arms curved around his waist, pulling him back against a strong, bare chest.

 

“What are you doing up so early?” Sebastian complained into the mess of his hair, his voice thick and raspy with sleep. “The bed was cold.”

 

“Maybe if you bothered to wear something to bed you wouldn’t get so cold.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sebastian scoffed.

 

It _was_ early. Blaine had woken long before his alarm, roused by some dream perhaps, or maybe even the chirping of the birds outside. Maybe it was Sebastian’s cold feet against his calves.

 

“What time are your classes?”

 

“Ten to four today,” Blaine replied. “You know that.”

 

They had a calendar in the kitchen, a new calendar to keep to a new tradition - one that Blaine rather enjoyed. This one was marked with their college classes, date nights, and Blaine’s volunteer hours, among other things.

 

“University is such an antiquated system,” Sebastian grumbled, squeezing Blaine a little tighter.

 

“Well, you _are_ familiar with such things,” Blaine teased, causing Sebastian to huff unceremoniously into his hair. “And besides, don’t pretend you don’t love it. High and mighty in the back of the lecture hall, making your classmates feel stupid over their required courses.”

 

“Some of them _are_ stupid.”

 

“You could have gone off to Harvard or some-such. Back to Paris, even.”

 

Sebastian snorted. “You always wanted New York and I want you. And don’t think for one moment I’d allow my sweet husband to galavant around this city unaccompanied. Who knows what manner of ill-bred swine would try to sweep you away.”

 

Blaine simply rolled his eyes, grown accustomed in the last two years to Sebastian’s declarations of unabashed possessiveness, a reaction Blaine knew came from his deep love and loyalty . “Good thing I have eyes for only _one_ ill-bred swine.”

 

Sebastian turned Blaine around in his arms and kissed him swiftly, passionately. “Imp,” he mumbled against Blaine’s smiling mouth.

 

Blaine’s heart felt immensely full, as it had so often since the day he agreed to marry Sebastian. Not every day was perfect, how could they be? But enough days were, and many more almost so. Blaine felt gratitude down into his bones that he’d found a way to see past Sebastian’s icy and roughish mask to the true man beneath.

 

“Come darling,” Sebastian said, kissing him again. “We’ve time enough for some fun before class.”

 

Blaine laughed. Nonetheless, he’d never have to worry about Sebastian becoming someone he was not. And for that Blaine loved him all the more.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been in the works (ie. texted back and forth) for a while now, and has seen a number of different forms and tones. We hope this version pulled them all together. (There may be extra little tidbits that didn’t make it into this version that will be posted separately later.)


End file.
